Ошибок неимоверное количество..Оправдание: забываю английский, писала в темноте причем сложно было думать вообще...
__Life is a theater..U know… even if i realized that, i cannot change it… maybe i could.. but i don’t want… seems like i don’t wanna be myself? maybe.. but it’s way better to be like now, than to be myself and showing my emotions…because… People may understand what hurts me the most, and after.. they can use it against me. Just like in the legend about Achilles…
U know.. the Greek mythology..
Yeah… anyone is right by saying ” you are just afraid… u are scared..” I am afraid to show my emotions, i am afraid of those feelings… when i feel my father is not here.. there is not even near me … he just doesn’t exist any more… there are moments when i trust in those words like ” he is with u.. he is here” … but often i am realistic… and i realize: these words, are just for calming me… just to make me feel better..
Yes, papa… i miss u… i miss u every moment every second.. every cigarette.. every song and movie… I am crying about u… just when no one can see that…No, i don’t see you in my dreams, because i am afraid
of. I don’t know what exactly i am afraid of.. but… this is the question, the answer for , i don’t wanna know.
Yes, i know if you will be here, you will not be proud of me now…
But you are not here, and i feel that you are proud of me.. just because i am like u… strong… On the stage of theater… but behind the scene… noone does see me what and who am i.
Actually, i guess this post looks like an EMO post… i don’t care… Fuck.. i just miss u…I would give everything, just for an hour with u… i have so many questions… and i cannot got any answer… I need u here… I am tired of being strong… I just wanna be that little girl, who is running in the snow… and is laughing… she is happy… because she got U… and mom… She got a family… a childhood with u both…
I have no idea why am i writing about now… maybe because of t
hose dreams… maybe because now i am watching a movie where a woman has a dad… even if he cannot talk… he cannot understand anything… he did remember about her… and in the final there was an embrace that made him able to speak… Fuck.. these are fairy-tales.. not a real life… but sometimes we want so much to trust in fairy tales… we are trying to find a miracle in every usual thing… what for?? to make sure that we can be happy not only in movies or pictures…
You know.. if i wrote a note to my father now… i don’t even know what i’d write…
” Hello Papi
Today is snowing here… all the day and night.. today i was laughing and taking pictures outside.. I called my mother, and she is proud of me… i have no idea for what… but she said ” thanks to your dad, that he took me being
his wife, and now i got you.. thanks to him for having you “… yeah, papa, we miss u…but mommy is not afraid to show it… like i do.. if you are asking how are we… what can i say? we are okay… it seems to be okay at least… i am a big girl now, maybe you are watching me but better don’t do it please…because i feel a blame on me, when i smoke, when i am doing things that u don’t want me to do…
well… i wrote u many poems… but i deleted them…
I cannot do it any more… it seems like i am going crazy… by writing a letter to you… but… Only God knows what i feel inside… so… anyone can think what they want…
Papa, i want you to know only one thing: Everything i do, every step up in my life, every good thing that i do in my life, i do it for you, i just want you to be proud of me someday. Please, someday, no matter when… maybe after 10-20 years… just tell me that you love me… that you are proud of me… Just tell me…In a dream… in a song… i don’t care… i just wanna know..
.
I love u, Papa…
P.s. sorry for that tattoo… i hope you can understand me”
I am not going crazy… i am just tired of being a big girl… from 11 years old when he passed…I am tired of that force that helps me to hide all these things…
If there is a question why i am writing all these things here…. The answer is : I could tell them to my mom… but it would be the craziest thing i ever did…for real.
P.S. I miss that village and that places that you showed me when i was little… Someday i will go back there…I promise.
______________________________________________________-
Ну вот в принципе... Сложно судить что с человеком который такое пишет...
Странно просто то, что как-то с 11 лет до сих пор я не особо чувствовала нужду в отце.. как-то справлялась со всем сама... именно сама..
И вроде бы горжусь собой хотя бы за то, что воспитала себя вроде неплохо... Во многом благодаря маме которая до тех пор меня воспитывала с рождения как-то по особенному.. она со мной всегда разговаривала как со взрослым человеком...В общем сейчас не об этом..
Так вот, а сейчас я как-то почувствовала острую боль и какое-то место пустое рядом с собой.. где по идее должен быть он.. Хочу чтоб он пришел, закричал на меня за то что я поздно прихожу..за плохие оценки... эх..
Ребят, не все так радужно как кажется вам, когда вы говорите что я на порядок выше вас, избалованна, успешна итд...Улыбки мои дорого мне стоят... Не судите прежде чем узнать правду... А когда я слышу фразы вроде " доверься мне, откройся мне.." вообще тошно становится... Не спрашивайте почему..
Мама говорила что любит мое умение писать четко, коротко, ясно и красиво все что хочу сказать.. мне кажется она ошибается... не вижу я тут четкости, ясности а особенно красоты..
Этот комментарий был удален автором.
ОтветитьУдалитьЭэээ :) Что вы курите то ?
ОтветитьУдалитьНу вот к примеру Гугла плюшет ни по децки -
http://radikal.ru/F/s39.radikal.ru/i084/0912/38/0d3b86cd522a.jpg.html