I've put my head against the cold window. I remember when I was a kid, I did the same and my nose also touched the glass. Then you have not to breath. I stayed and looked at my street, my so
suburbian street. I hate it and all those houses who are all the same. Everytime I come home at night, I tell my self I will stop one day with a camera and no one would believe me I took the
pictures in my street. They would say "nooo these are from the us". I swear you it's right at the corner over there. Clean houses. Small gardens. Dogs. Family cars. Kids riding bikes on sunday
afternoon and all this kind of crapy stuff you only see in movies.
Have you ever seen the Truman show? Sometimes I like thinking I'm stuck in it. As a mother they gave me an idiot and mad one. They also gave me a teen dad. A perfect step mother. And a geek brother
who likes japanese girls and scream at me each time I enter his room without knocking. They also decided that I would have troubles with men, so that all the girls around the whole world could
identify to myself. I would live all the fucking situation you could imagine. He would left me for his best friend. He would left me for... godknowswhat whereas I was waiting for him for 5 years.
He would left me because he's under drugs. I would have white/black/blue boyfriend. Young and old. More or less cute.
I don't know the end of the show. No one knows. I just hope it will not be too bad. Not like the end of Nip Tuck the other night.
Par Wendy
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Publié dans : Pensées en vrac
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