There’s always in life a time to stop ourselves to think about days, times, old memories, wondering if we are doing it well. Or wrong.
There’s always in life a time of sorrow, of pain, of tears. In everybody’s life there’s always a time to cry, as much as a time to smile.
There’s always in life a time to think back to days, roads, thoughts, hours, minutes, where we were different, somehow.
There will be in life, just before to get older, a moment where we will understand to be in a time of our being that we always thought it wouldn’t ever came. But it will.
There will be a time to forget pains and sorrows, tears and days. Than, there won’t be any day more. There’s always in life an end. And it’s strange.
Yes, it’s strange to be involved in this running stuff, so fast and violent, just to get an end which is made of nothing, but it stops, everything, all this going and going, in a while.
Yes, I know. Many of you would say this is life, and you gotta get it as it is … many others could say it’s always been like this and there’s no other solution to life. I know. But I can’t accept we’ve got just this chance, made of going nowhere and just for these few days. I can’t believe it is how it’s shown. So I hope to be in a fuck’n nightmare and I live waiting to open my eyes in the morning, to hug my love every single day, and than again, and again, again, again, forever, because it’s the only one reason to live.