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"The Wanderer" see a merchandise with the following word: Saturday waits, Saturday wits and saturday is at: club's of sevens nights every saturday.
47 - Saturday waits, Saturday wits and Saddness Saturday nigth's ...
Saturday waits, Saturday wits and Saddness Saturday nigth's ...
Previous/continuing...
"The Wanderer" see a merchandise with the following word: Saturday waits, Saturday wits and saturday is at: club's of sevens nights every saturday.
"Rain's son" is a god. "The wanderer" is an animal. "Moses" is nature. "Sand king"is a spirit. At the same time they listen "Andromeda Ghost" words.
Each one of them are in a different direction. South, North, East and West. She is at volcano, waiting for them, but them don't know about that. They think that she is with them, but hiding. They feel scare, because the felt her, but can't see her...
- Show yourself pretty ghost! said "Rain's son" with fear, but pretandig big balls.
She laughts and sing:
- That's not my name, ame, ame!
"Andromeda Ghost" words:
A son of God, with an animal body, linked to nature and carrying a spirit. That's a person.
I wanted to be lying with the owner of beauty, but my words slip across the table. The fun is no longer the same, some emotions are similar, others no longer exist, but I still feel certain about my choices.
Therefore, the sadness of solitude on Saturday is partly stopped with hallucinogens, crutches and I scape from sadness with subterfuges. They are at the same time, plesant and unplasent. As they carry the feeling of being where I should and living my moments with lightness and bring also that feeling of be living on fake nostalgic.
In other words, I'm not where I really want to be, but I'd rather be here this way than somewhere in the past. What happened today is faced with strangeness, I have a memory of where I was, but I'm not really sure who that me was, I admit that I was there, but I'm not going back.
At the end of the day, anxiety and sadness are results not of the past, but of the future that has not yet arrived, and being in this state of transition frustrates me.
I know the day will come, but because it takes so long, it takes so long that I can't glimpse its true beauty. To find myself requires a return that happens in parts, but some part seeks satisfaction in that memory, which deep down does not want to be lived, but still imprisons and leaves me in the cell of the present moment.
Not being there, I don't want to go back there, so I stay here, suffering the pain of a memory that won't erase and imagining a future that never arrives.
Have faith,
He who fell seven times gets up eight times,
Have hope,
If you have difficulty seeing, use a periscope,
Live until the day
of our love, shine in the sky and be visible,
Even in the city where the sky is
gray.