Wednesday, September 3, 2008

Love Is A Losing Game

A famous french poet once said : « I love and I'm loved. It would be happiness if it concerned the same person. »

I think that I never heard such a truth before. Not even two weeks ago, a guy I know said that he loves me. He's jealous of every single person who can spend just a second with me, he wants to be one of them, because living so far away, the only thing he could do is writing on a keyboard. When I heard it, I felt so good, but I'm in love with someone else, who probably doesn't even know I exist, exepct for the fact that he always comes to me when he needs help and already-done-homework.

« Love her. If you can't, just use her. »

It's written in another french poem. Probably almost every person I know read it and thought about me when they were doing it, because it seems like it was written talking about me. They use me and after then trow me away. If I'm still here it's because they probably didn't find the perfect bin yet.

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