I wander as if I have no where to go. I just don't want to go home, but why? My home is far away, and I am a princess there. Here, I am nothing, a nuissance, a bore, a gypsy.
How I long to be understood. It is not realistic - I am too different an animal from any that exists here. How frustrating it makes me to be compared to a desperate brazilian single mother who borrowed a lighter from a poor italian tourist (she doesn't even smoke) just to get him and eventually an Italian passport. She has ZERO in common with me. Zero. For the mercy of God.
Rejection was the last thing I needed. Yet I have become insensitized to the worst, to insults and rejections. They have become such regular occurences. Only in my dreams I long to grasp a few slithers of comfort. Yet they don't come. I live in hope, the hope that tomorrow, maybe tomorrow some comfort will come in some shape or form. And it doesn't, I grind my teeth some more. I hang in there the best I could, surviving on the hope of..
I could have life easy, so easy yet I choose the hard way. I chose it all by myself, I choose to come here, I chose to live I am living. I have only got myself to blame.