Saviour and sin

I guess everything has an end. Nobody's perfect, and, as Sherlock once said: 'there are no heroes, and even they were, I wouldn't be one of them'. And if nobody's perfect, anything can be perfect.

I guess that's life: good moments with stones in the way that make life harder and sometimes pointless. And then there's people, all those different but at the same time clones of yours, always there ready for make you happy, make your life easier but also bothering you and, most of the time, letting you down.

And in that moment you realised you're part of it, then, you are and you aren't all that things you've been complaning about. But today, tonight, now, that's not the point. You've been told to be pacient and fine and balance, as Bon Iver once said, but you don't care anymore.

I don't see the point of anything. What's life worth for? And, most important, is this love? Suffer, meaningless words, and maybe, just maybe, true love. But it exists anyway?

I bet you I could find hundreds of songs about what I feel right now. It's not as special and as complicated as I want it to be. It's quite simple, in fact, like a movie, like a script, not in the a drama and spectacular way, but in the terms of being all clear, with a begging and an end. The difficult part is the choice, all the things you can loose, or win. I guess that's life after all.