I guess I could take a sleeping pill and sleep at will and not have to go through what I go through. I could leave this agony behind which is just what I´d do if I wanted to, but I don´t want to. I don´t want to get over love. I could listen to my therapist, pretend you don´t exist and not have to dream of what I dream of; I could listen to all my friends and go out again and pretend it´s enough, but it´s not. Or I could make a career of being blue, I could dress in black and read Camus, smoke clove cigarettes and drink vermouth like I was 17. that would be a scream, but I don´t want to.
I want to swing with my eyes shut and see what I hit.