Oh je cours, tout le jours

I cried a little last night, but he knows that. He cried with me, I couldn't hear the tears, I couldn't see them, but I knew that he wouldn't lie. It was nice, to have somone there, who could cry with me about the same things. He said that the saddest he ever got was hearing the stories, I told him the saddest I ever get is wishing I could tell her stories, what a strange pair we make. And how nice to have someone right there to say the right thing, and make me feel so much better. Of course it's temporary, later on...

Later on I cried alone, wishing to pull myself right out of my skin, wishing to tranform into something more appealing, more beautiful, who God knows who. For myself I suppose. Oh I'm overwhelmed to say the least, and summer isn't much help. What if next year I find myself in deja vu, or what if I don't have a summer? Try telling that to a body that's already stopped caring, try helping your mind get the point across that you need to work, and you'll see it too...how weak the mind is.