I think my mask of sanity is about to slip.

Another year has ended and left us with the question : Is this me?
Because we remember being different and we don't know how come we've changed.
Amusement appart, welcome work, still kisses with salive. This is what it feels like for a boy.
As someone somewhere said: I'm a 30 year old boy.
We keep getting older, and even though I look forward to it, I can't help but feeling a bit scared, for I know now, opposed to a few years ago, that for example, I won't be a pilot, or an astonaut, or president, or mathematician ( well , I kinda knew that all along).
The point is , we have pretty much decided what will become of us , and it happened fairly quickly.
Another thing that strikes me is how our definition of friendship has changed. We used to spend a lot of time together, now it's the other way around. And the strange thing is : We hardly miss it.
We are quite happy with the current situation.
I have embarked myself in different activities, have underlined a new life maxime and I'm trying hard to follow it.
If someone already said it best, then it must be:

There is an idea of a me; some kind of abstraction. But there is no real me: only an entity, something illusory. And though I can hide my cold gaze, and you can shake my hand and feel flesh gripping yours and maybe you can even sense our lifestyles are probably comparable... I am simply not there.

I for one, plan to do my part.
And so I leave you with these words: From my dead cold hands.

You have all been there

And you all know what I´m talking about. You remember those hot days at school, behind the swimmhall, on the basketball court, and you remember climbing that hill, and the smell of it all.

I remember satudays and sundays, in the morning, lying in bed, awake, not eager to begin the day. I remember the cereal breakfasts at 8 AM alone in front of the tube, switching channels, playing with my pets, lying on the grass, trying not to be too bored, wondering what would become of me.Would I be good, would I end up in jail, would I do the same things my parents do?

I laid there, remembering as I do today, remembering my early childhood.

I didn´t really expect anything, just as I do today, and deep down you kind of have the feeling that you're following blueprints, and you're not you're own, merely a victim of time.

If you figure it out, please play it to this.

Histories of ages past

Unentlightened shadows cast

Down thru all eternity

The crying of humanity

Just then when the hurdy gurdy man

Comes singing songs of love

Then when the hurdy gurdy man

Comes singing songs of love

Don't feel bad for wanting to drive up all night to where it´s cold, where in mornings you found things in bags, where you experienced a world so condenced and yet so large.

I spend hours now picturing myself when I´m old and I can't help but asking myself if all this dark secrets will surface or will sink me with them.

I'm just like you, a reflection, gazing with tranquility.