There are cracks in my painting.
I tried to put the broken picture together but it can never look the same once broken.
And by looking into his eyes I knew in my heart that I did not want to have that piture back.
And by looking into his eyes I knew in my heart that I did not want to have that piture back.
A picture painted by fantasie, dreams, denial and lies.
But this was all I had.
Noone had ever given me any manuals of how to build a new me, a true me.
But this was all I had.
Noone had ever given me any manuals of how to build a new me, a true me.
I spend the following months trying to find some ground for me to stand on. In this time I did everything just to survive. Yes, humans has a really strong survivalinstincts and when it comes to pure survival we seem to find energy from nowhere.
I tried to hold on to the few things that I had in my life that I could still belive in and I held them hard, tried to control them, frightened that something would take also them away. I tried really hard to do what is right without knowing really what is right.
The result was an inferno of fears and caos, in my attempts to do everything right I started to make misstakes, afraid to loose I tryed to cover up my misstakes wich lead to more misstakes.
I was back in my old circle but this time I knew that I was and I was not comfortable there. I knew that I could never be, once the picture had been broken nothing could ever make it look the same again.
