Donnerstag, 25. April 2013

Dear Life,

I know you believe you are the greatest and coolest and best ever - really, you are! I love you so damn much, it hurts from time to time. But after the last days, weeks, months, don't you think you could go back to normal? The way it was before? It would be very comforting to feel a bit of normality and security and certainty for at least a few days, you know, relaxing a bit.
And if you have to let me know that this is beyond your abilities (yes, I really fear that it will stay like this for ever), could you please, PLEASE! try to be less irritating? I know you love it to interact with other lives and that's cool! But - it's hard to cope with it sometimes. At least animate the other lives to be nicer and more normal from time to time.
I hope your love for drama and romantic comedies or tragedies and silly soap-operas goes over as fast as it came and we can continue our perfect relationship together!

Lots of Love,
Yourself.




I knew the human exaggeration for sorrow - a broken heart. Melanie remembered speaking the phrase herself. But I'd always thought of it as a hyperbole, a traditional description for something that had no real physiological link, like a green thumb. So I wasn't expecting the pain in my chest. The nausea, yes, the swelling in my throat, yes, and, yes, the tears burning in my eyes. But what was the ripping sensation just under my rib cage? It made no logical sense.
-The Host by Stephenie Meyer - 

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