Alas?

To grow wings and fly over everything and everyone. That’d be really nice, you know? Those moments would be quiet and easy and tranquil, wouldn’t they?
Every time I stare at the sky, when day’s dying and night’s coming, I wish I could fly and so, get away from all this crazy things, this crazy life, crazy stuff everywhere, every time.
I do have to admit that I forget how crazy it is, and when I suddenly remember, it’s so weird, so weird I can’t believe I’ve done those things. But I have. And they’re never going to go away. And I’m not saying I’d like them to, no. I don’t regret what I’ve done, by no means. I don’t realize how people can go through life regretting everything they’ve done, consuming peace with every action they do… No, I don’t regret what I do, and I don’t dwell on every move before doing something: more than half of the times I’ve done what I feel, others, yes, I have thought it over and over, trying to see every way, every end, every consequence, and sometimes decided not to do something, but in general, really, I try to do what I want, what I feel. Of course, not always I do so, you see, I am not used to do what I want, I was raised like that, still I’ve come to see that there’s one life only for me, one me only, and I might never see that person ahead of me again, I might never come to this place again, I might never hear that again, I might never live this again. I might, I might, I might. I might never think I might again, if I just do it.
But, it is not in society’s plans for someone to do what they want. There’s a role, a must do, for everyone and if it’s not done, then all hell breaks loose.
But, really, between the Might and Realization I choose, by far, realization. My realization of what I want, of what’s going to make me smile or laugh or cry or mistaking.
Yes, I rather to make a mistake to the fog of the so called success.
What’s the difference between mistake and well done?
I don’t see any difference, because I don’t see mistakes. Some would say that’s optimistic. Yeah? I don’t know. Too much? To optimistic? I just want to be pure. Not happy. I want to cry as well, I want to scream, to suffer, and to smile and laugh and dance and be what I feel. Now, is happiness just smiling and jump around ignoring everything or acknowledging the stuff that hurts and still smile and not giving up the fight? Is happiness so stupid and null and shitty? I do not want to be happy then. I don’t want to ignore truth, whichever it is. I will be happy while fighting for my beliefs. No other way, and whatever it takes, I’ll end up smiling.
Mmmmh… It looks innocent.
Well. No. I have done my many wrong deeds, many stupid stuff, many black up comings for deciding blindly in the rush of the dwelling. Poe wrote about perversion in the Demon of Perversion… many things I did, I did them against my mother. I’m not ashamed to say it. I have done tons of things just to go against her. I didn’t know thou, so when I finally didn’t care for her thoughts no more, there was something missing, there was missing the against, the no for just saying no. And I needed it back, until I figured out what was wrong. So, I set myself against myself. I did a lot different things against myself, against what I wanted, against my truth. Still, it was a way to know myself, at least I learned what I didn’t want, what I wasn’t. And I cried, and I laughed, and I danced, and I kissed, and I loved, and hated, and pitied, and I yelled, and I came clean, I came out, I spoke, I sang, I waited, I’ve been sorry, I lied, I spited truth, I didn’t do things I would have liked to do, I did things I wanted to, and day after day I were me more and more.

Things have changed. And every day someone dies, and someone’s born, every day someone cries, and someone smiles, every day someone suicides, every day someone gets over it, every day someone looks at the mirror, every day, every day, every day, every day the train goes on. Every day, birds fly across my window, and every day the moon comes out.
And every day, I enjoy my cuts, my draws, my words, my books, my movies, my cell phone, my friends, my family, my food, my drinks, my day and my night. And my wings.

.
. :