Possible scenarios are the worst scenarios ever, they get you to have fucked up twisted expectations. In the end, if you get a lollipop, you are darn lucky. I hate surprises, but I secretly love them; although I really don't know how to make them, well at least to certain types of people.
If she was sane enough, she would not be writing each and every single thought. She would be out there living the moment and having her time of her life. A student just flirted with her, she did not stop him, she actually felt it was flattering. The poor kid was astonished when he found out how old she really was. Is this wrong? Yes. Does she care? No. Why? because every now and then a girl likes to feel wanted, and desired. These little flirtations they just come at the right time. The Universe senses one's troubles and sadness, even when they themselves are not aware of it, yet. When the rethinking and the over thinking creeps in and reconsideration makes you deconstruct each and every single thing you believe in, in hopes it would all once again make sense.
The little flirting is not permanent, she knows, he is saying that out of politeness; and he knows she will never give him her time of a day, but she mentions him here, in her most sacred documentation, letting the whole world know that she acknowledges, if not welcomes it.
She wishes to go to the Opera, to wear a gown and enjoy the music. She wishes for flowers, some tulips or daisies, maybe they would have a touch of lavender in them. She wishes she could go to a ball and dance the night away. She is a girl, a lady, a woman. She is the embodiment of youth, even though if confronted, she would ridicule it and laugh it off. Deep down, she sometimes craves them.
Though now, her navy blue sweat pants and white top are her couture and her chocolate chip chocolate ice cream is her new BFF. She now listens to nothing, with her hair high in a messy bun. She is okay for now.
At some point in her life, she did her waiting for her prince, she had the fairytale dreamy expectations and she was disappointed and she did not mind, it was a phase, she told herself. She was always ahead of herself. Always eager to know, what is the next step. She is bored from all of this. She wishes she could desert people, humanity, social interactions and sit with her books in front of the beach under an umbrella and some ice cold lemonade. She would buy the beach to guarantee no one intrudes on her reading time.
Now, she writes and dreams, tomorrow, she gets them to come true. She will, because she can.
Peace out! H!
If she was sane enough, she would not be writing each and every single thought. She would be out there living the moment and having her time of her life. A student just flirted with her, she did not stop him, she actually felt it was flattering. The poor kid was astonished when he found out how old she really was. Is this wrong? Yes. Does she care? No. Why? because every now and then a girl likes to feel wanted, and desired. These little flirtations they just come at the right time. The Universe senses one's troubles and sadness, even when they themselves are not aware of it, yet. When the rethinking and the over thinking creeps in and reconsideration makes you deconstruct each and every single thing you believe in, in hopes it would all once again make sense.
The little flirting is not permanent, she knows, he is saying that out of politeness; and he knows she will never give him her time of a day, but she mentions him here, in her most sacred documentation, letting the whole world know that she acknowledges, if not welcomes it.
She wishes to go to the Opera, to wear a gown and enjoy the music. She wishes for flowers, some tulips or daisies, maybe they would have a touch of lavender in them. She wishes she could go to a ball and dance the night away. She is a girl, a lady, a woman. She is the embodiment of youth, even though if confronted, she would ridicule it and laugh it off. Deep down, she sometimes craves them.
Though now, her navy blue sweat pants and white top are her couture and her chocolate chip chocolate ice cream is her new BFF. She now listens to nothing, with her hair high in a messy bun. She is okay for now.
At some point in her life, she did her waiting for her prince, she had the fairytale dreamy expectations and she was disappointed and she did not mind, it was a phase, she told herself. She was always ahead of herself. Always eager to know, what is the next step. She is bored from all of this. She wishes she could desert people, humanity, social interactions and sit with her books in front of the beach under an umbrella and some ice cold lemonade. She would buy the beach to guarantee no one intrudes on her reading time.
Now, she writes and dreams, tomorrow, she gets them to come true. She will, because she can.
Peace out! H!
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