When told that the night is long.
The night is long indeed. Whether you're studying, listening to music or maybe even reading or perhaps watching one of those idiotic summer video that your band did during the summer tour-suspect more than anything to have an excuse to film the new drummer in a more ambiguous attitude to- night is long.
Especially if you're alone.
do not know why I'm better at night. Perhaps it is the solitude. It is certainly not the temperature: I've heard off the boiler a few minutes ago and am slowly freezing.
Perhaps it is the silence - so why listen to songs for the millionth time that I already knew by heart?
My fingertips are frozen and my feet have the same temperature of the legs of the Penguins.
(aside: I wonder why this song did not become the cry of the young against the young world. It has everything: fuck the government, the end of the world and everlasting love. Maybe it is Placebo and has been discriminated against? But this does not matter much).
Lately my mood is much worse than usual: again it's like I was sixteen, I want to die, I want to be perfect, my mother's words weigh like stones and my place in the world just seems a waste of space.
So I take a big sigh, I let fall a few tears and then I look at my arm, where it says temporarily Bright Lights. And then I smile, and chissinefrega, I'm ready to fly away, doing what I want to be who I am.
I do not forget to be who they are.
Why is it a long time that I left the darkness and into the light, the essential darkness at my back still there ready to swallow, are suspended in the shade light, but are facing the light.
I would like to write nice place where my mind has landed, the dreams that turned into a beautiful retreat and ommidio --- but this song is HORRIBLE!
I said. Not more than that horrible place where this song would be played in the background, most posters are not more or less clear about my problems.
In fact, tonight showed me Problems cousin, to which Perhaps I should be very near you. And she has often asked me to help in one way or another, but since they are the same old bitch ...
No, you do * too * terrible. Placebo, EPIC FAIL. That Protect Me From What I Want. Never again.
A-er.
I'm hungry, I have a headache, bad neck and cold feet. And I want a cup of tea.
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