Hello dear(but few) readers. At this very moment in reading a blog that I just found. Or maybe I should say he found me. The point is that I just realised it. I should write more.
A thing you probably didn't know, Im actually a pretty good writer. And Im a big nerd who gets good grades in every subject at school. But at this blog im not writing much, and I feel that you don't really get to meet the real me. Maybe thats a good thing, and maybe thats how it should be. Still im not sure.
But one thing I am sure of is that im bored. This city, this country is making me sick. I need to go somewhere. Meet new people. I want to travel with my friends, but I can not quit school. And I don't want to either. I want to stay here. With my brilliant friends. My family. My CD collection. And stay in this little, but fantastic city called Bergen. I want to continue playing theater. But im not sure. If there is one thing im sure of, that would have to be that im not sure. Still I am bored. And maybe a tad confused. Dazed and confused?
You're too young. Thats what they tell me. You're to young to be depressed. Have they never heard of Young girl Blues? Donovan is not a liar, is he? With the birds I'll share this lonely view.
I had the blues, but I shook them loose
probably you won't believe, but I wrote, almost, the same things a week ago.
ReplyDeleteIt's Sunday morning and I'm dazed. I'm sipping my vodka & coke and looking some stuff on web. Some blogs, indie's video and some pictures that give me the desire of escaping and a sense of nostalgia.
I know I don't have to look back into the old fucking sun.
I know I don't have to think about it but I can't forget what have been.
I leave the half-smoked Marlboro in the ashtray.
Traveling, playing guitar, singing, screaming, fucking around. To see new places, meeting new people, this is that I would do.
Barcelona, london, Prague, Lloret de Mar, I have already seen them, but I would go back.
Instead we are overwhelmed by the daily boredom from routine. The same things are repeated. A fucking chore. A fucking boring city.
Well who cares I drink my vodka & coke, even if I've got my long hair on the eyes and my sense of confusion is gettin' higher. I don't want to go to cut my hair.
It's just lunch.
Bye.