bright lights, big city...

I'm not in the mood to write in romanian right now. Somehow english seems to be more fit on this occasion. I was really thinking that no matter how hard I try to keep a certain kind of company around me, I always seem to fail. As much as I hate to admit it, I am still the devil. The day sees nothing of it. By day I am just another person. But the night finds me alone, always alone. It matters not if there is someone next to me in my bed or in the seat next to mine if I'm driving somewhere. I'm still alone and that person could not be missing the point more. I've gotten so good at this I even amaze myself. There were times when this would have put me down, but by now it has become routine. I lie that I'm okay, I pretend everything is fine. But nothing is really the way I want it to be, the way I need for it to be. Nobody really bothers to listen, to feel. Their selfishness is all they really have and all that leads them along whatever path they walk. Because no matter which it is, it doesn't even come close to mine. And even though I know this, I sometimes lose sight of it and begin to actually believe I may have found someone that could see through all the disguise. And I put my faith in that person and force myself to believe everything is true. And, unfortunately, it's all smoke and shadows. And not before long I realize I have fooled myself once more, chasing after ghosts and beautiful chymeras. I try to steer clear of the past and not let it cloud my present, but there is no way I can help the feeling that I have left the essential behind me, that, somehow, by some twisted game of fate, I have overlooked the one thing I was looking for, I have passed it by and now it's simply gone forever. I guess I'll never really know, but in the end it is of no consequence. I, unlike others, have learned to deal with this; I am the little black devil.