No plans, no dreams...

I was planning to do a few stuffs with the money that I have gotten from my aunt yesterday (she's actually my mum's aunt). At first, I thought about saving it to get a new phone from a different network operator, but it would take me a while to get the necessary money. Then, I thought i would send out a few letters. After that, I thought about keeping the money for as long as possible. But as you already know, I am not trustwhorty when it comes about making plans and keeping up with what I have previously planned. So I have bought a bunch of paper, four coloured pens that I'll use on my letters and I am sending away, at least one of three packages that I have left in my room and that should have been previously sent.
Now, after a crazy night with a terrible dream (that has started as a pornographic stuff), after a terrible fright in the streets, that almost caused me an heart attack, here I am, writing down, as I haven't done in a while. When I was walking down the streets of the city, I thought that I wouldn't plan anything. Then again, it would be useless and pointless - we all know on what it would end up.

So I have decided to stop planning everything and anything. I am just letting go of all this madness and enjoy stuffs the way they are and the way they appear to be. I am not going to plan anything in the closer times. I know it's just a waste of time and plans always tend to seem cursed from the beggining.

I know that I should arrive home earlier, mum. I also know that I should be working to have a good life, but I am far from being the perfect son that you've possibly dreamt of. I am nothing of what you or anyone might dream of.
I know that I should leave the streets aside, to live my life in a different way. I know that i should work on getting it all fixed and less troubled up. But I am naturally troubled up: haven't all those stuffs taught you anything?
I am going on dreams and fantasies of sex, lust with little pieces of love: like chocolate in the top of cookies. And the targets of my affections are always the wrong ones. The target of my obsession is always the one who cares not and the one who will never ever be mine.

Maybe one day, I will walk in silence... ashes in the air... the rain of stars... and death, fear, dreams, fantasies, pain will all be just distant memories!

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