jueves, 24 de febrero de 2011

People aim to be, someone they are not. Maybe I do it sometimes, but I try not to. 
I know i'm not perfect - don't get confused, i'm not even trying - and I know there's not such thing.
Perfection is an abstract term. I can not think of anyone even close to be perfect. 
I think everyone is Perfectly Unperfect. Maybe i'm perfect in my own way, and all people is in their own. 
'My head is a terrible place to be in it' , and I wish i could scape from my self some time. Just for an hour, or 30 min. Is it that much to ask for?
Ok, i'm too obsesive. 

(Y, sí. Me encanta escribir monologos en Inglés)

1 comentario:

pato(s) amarillo(s) o naranja(s) firma(n) esta entrada