This is a page of thoughts.
Most of them are "old", they belong to other times, they have other meanings. I have always written for someone, rarely for myself.
I don't always write... sometimes I avoid talking to anyone, I remain locked in a stubborn silence, which I cannot break. Not even thoughts become concrete.
So I stop to observe things, looking for a detail that distracts me and makes me forget everything. I take pictures of everything. Flowers above all...
And I think that I need hope, that I need at least a small glimmer of hope to face the grey days that have inhabited me for too long and to which, paradoxically, I have adapted.
Some people think I've resigned myself, I haven't. I've just accepted the idea that everything I believed in was "hogwash"...
Life makes you lonely, for some people it molds that way. The strength to accept the challenge you have to find it within yourself and not by holding someone else's hand.
[2016©Yelena b.]
All rights reserved to me
