21 ianuarie, 2011

wishful thinking. [sau love song for no one 2.]


In primul rand, sa iti explic cum sta treaba. Asta e o chestie pe care am inceput-o undeva intre Craciun si Revelion, anul trecut. Si in capul meu suna muult mai bine si ii gasisem la un moment dat un titlu mai dragut. dar am uitat. De ce n-am scris-o decat acum? Pai pentru ca nu stiam cum sa o incep. si dupa ce am inceput-o mi-a fost lene. si dupa ce nu mi-a mai fost lene nu mai stiam ce sa scriu. asa ca am scris cand am putut si cand am vrut si de-asta a durat atat.

okay. asta contine ce as vrea eu de la un eventual 'lover'. si nu am scris chiar tot. ca as mai fi putut scrie. si da, ma multumesc si cu mai putin. nu mult mai putin. putin mai putin. am scris asta in engleza pentru ca am descoperit ca imi plac foarte mult cuvintele 'random' si 'awkward' desi nu le-am folosit foarte mult. dar am scris in engleza pentru ca mi se parea ca suna mai bine. si nu ma corecta dpv gramatical, ca stiu ca nu-i cea mai buna scriere pe care ai citit-o.

atat. enjoy. :)


I want him to be cute. not incredibly handsome. just cute. I want him to tell me stuff I never heard about. and to be smart. not unbelievably intelligent. just smart. I want him to speak Italian or German or Russian, so he'd tell me things I don't understand and then he'd lie about their meaning. I want him to lay on the floor and listen to music with me. I want him to make me laugh and to hug me at random moments. I want him to share his food and his drinks and his ice-cream with me. I want him to tell me quotes I don't know, because he'd know I love quotes. I want him to watch House and CSI with me. I want him to hold my hand when I'm upset and to tell me that it's gonna be okay. I want him to sing Damien Rice's songs with me. I want him to help me with my homework. I want him to spend half an hour explaining me stuff I don't really care about. I want him to tickle me, so I'd laugh so hard that my stomach would hurt. I want him to tell me everything he likes and dislikes, because I think it's important to know and I can't read minds. I want him to like my best friends and to enjoy hanging out with us. I want us to dance like retards. I want him to play Hercules or Jazz Jack Rabbit or Bomberman with me. I want him to read what I write and to honestly tell me his opinion. I want him to poke me. And to play with my hands and hair. I want him to invent words with me. I want him to be my part-time lover and my full-time friend. I want him to do things I don't like [like biting me or splashing me] because he'd know that somehow I love it when he does that. I want him to philosophize with me. And to sing songs without actually knowing the lyrics. I want him to go out with his friends and then tell me everything about it. I want him to know my parents, so they could trust him. I want him to call me just because. I want him to play tag with me. I want him to know that I'd rather wake up early than stay up late. I want him to wrestle with me. I want him to read the books I love. I want him to pay attention to my favorite songs, because the lyrics sing words I can't say. I want him to trust me enough to tell me stuff about him that nobody else knows. I want him to make me so angry that I'd kick him with my fists and legs and then he'd hold me in his arms until I'd stop crying. I want him to make me tea when I'm sick. I want him to talk about physics with me, because that's the only science which I actually like. I want him to let me drive his car [if he has one], even though I can't drive. I want him to toy-fight with me. I want him to leave me. And then to come back the next day, saying he was wrong and that he missed me. And that he was also sorry. I want us to go out to have coffee and to let me have one of his sugars, so I'd eat it. I want him to kiss me on the forehead and on the neck. I want us to do stupid things together, like going to the sea-side in December. I want him to sleepover. And to watch me sleep, because he'd know that if he touches me, I'll wake up. I want him to encourage me to do things I wouldn't do, because I was scared. I want him to count the stars with me. I want us to cook together. And to play with stray dogs. I want him to take pictures of me just because. I want him to make fun of the fmylife posts with me. I want him to laugh at me and then to kiss me, saying that he was actually just kidding. I want him to admire my earrings and my necklaces. I want him to proudly wear the bracelets I made for him. I want him to tell me I look pretty at random moments. I want him to race against me. I want him to wipe my tears away, even if he was the one to cause them. I want him to 'steal' stuff from me. I want him to borrow me his T-shirts, so I could wear them as PJ's. I want him to take care of me. I want him to wonder through shops with me without buying anything. I want him to be passionate about something I'd find interesting, so he'd keep telling me things about that something. I want him to let me draw or write on this arms, because I was bored. I want him to go with me wherever I want to, whenever I want to. I want him to hang up on me, so then I'd hang up on him. I want him to argue with me, so then we wouldn't talk to each other, just to see which one of us would say something first. I want him to simply hold my hand and take me for a walk. 

I want myself to feel happy and fulfilled when I'm with him.

I want him to exist. And if he does, I want him to find me.