When I write..................

I looked at my parent's old photo album reminiscing the wonderful times that creep in the very minute mellowed moments of existence.I looked at my mom's face now.Still the same.My parents.Just grown up.I think of my pictures.Some that I have deleted.Some that I have kept.Some that I would want someone to see.Some that are only for me.I look at other girls my age.I talk to other guys.Arent we all the same?Just the way we look at things.Just the way we feel?So what makes us different?
I dont know.....................
I would call them mine.They who stand out from the crowd through their honest manoeuvres.They who come to me ,they who make me safe and beautiful.This one time in my life I would want to rule completely and honestly and shed tears out of laughter.Away from the disfunctional times,the ruthless hours and unsafe nights.Away from the pretentious times, when I would agree that violence,men and romance aren't all that related.Like a music that would seep through the core of my heart and put off the heated battles that I fought with myself .And all those cool dead nights that would answers my prayers through these bright afternoons,when I try and convinvce myself.When I write.

Am I to blame?
For all that happened in my life?

Am I to feel happy for all my achievements?

I am not sure.But I have lost all precacious thoughts.I have no regrets.

Just the evil that I convince to instrument,so I could vent.Vent all my superstitions and inhibitions.Like a hole in a dirty moral cover.

Now is the beginning of new times.
Now is the beginning of thinking anew.
Its the new ME!