I’m forever blowing bubbles. Pretty bubbles in
the air.
How does
one feel as a bubble in the air?
One is drifting in mid air, feels helpless and has no idea of what is happening…
I’m forever blowing bubbles, pretty bubbles in the air.
They fly so high and nearly reach the sky…
Then like my dreams they fade and die.
Why does it feel so good, but hurt so bad at the same time?
I felt rotten, but that was probably what it was all about…
I know, on one hand I want to run to you… but on the other hand I want to flee
from you.
NO.
No, I won’t
get fucked by the world. I’m not a person, people lie to.
I’m disappointed. That’s not the way I want it. I have to find a way to handle
that.
I need to
find a secure place for you, my little dream.
So, I decided to put that secret together with my dream in a safe, laid my
heart next to it and then I threw the key away.
A lesson
learned.
Bubbles are
doomed to die.
I won’t
ever fall in love again.
