recycle my life please.

i am between

the editing

the writing

the casting

the cooking

the smiling

the crying

the running away

the staying

(...)

between

to be

or

not to be

bipolar.

waste.

desireofplayingbasketball.

needtochange.

stillalive.

needtodie.

summary of a day.

notes on #Jan25

remember me

'cause i looked into your eyes

i was breathing once

then

just

a blast

"Yesterday we were all Tunisian. Today we are all Egyptian. Tomorrow we'll all be free".

let the history to be written by not the powerful but the right one, once.

why should i leave home?

all i need is this, this, and this.

and i have them here.

so what's the point?

some people are like vampires.

but a bit different than original ones.

they don't suck the blood out of you.

they are more interested in your stories...

your life stories which are full of mistakes, miseries, regrets...

but not joyful ones.

and when they approach you.

and when they ask you with a voice full of curiosity

"did something bad happen?"

and if you open up because you are in a desperate need of human closure

then

they suck your story out of you

and leave you there

with a feeling of being raped, in a way...

then never come back

until the next time

they see you with a sad face.