I haven't writen for too many long.

For me.
For you.
For whoever is reading this.
For whoever pays atention.
For whoever just skims.

Here I write everything I want to and everything I don't. It's been a while since my fingers stopped obeying me. They write with no thougth and I forget that many times silence is gold.

It hurts to grow up. Hurts a lot.

There's so many good things in life and yet so many despairs.
Some writen.
Some painted.
Some invented.
Some inevitable.

It hurts to grow up. Also hurts to live with the consequences. The look in my eyes grows mature. Not that it loses its shine, but it knows more, finds less. Responsabilities come up. Time is running out. And if I don't do a thing I like each day, I don't live that day.

We get a job, we start working.
We get our first personal business card from the company.
We get proud for calling us to work.
We get amazed with the things we achieve.
We get interested in what we do.

But joy was left home. Lost on those school days when we didn't a thing. Times when we frequently got stressed with the exams but we had most of the days free.

I'm still happy, as I used to be.
I'm still happy, because I don't have any reason for not being so.

I have people who love me and do everything for me. I have friends who I'm sure I can rely on. I have a lot of good things.

But once in a while, the urge of picking up my accoustic six-string speaks louder and I let my anger flow into a world of sounds. I scream when I finally get the right tone and the right chords. Lose myself in the hours of the day, sleep when I'm tired, eat when I'm hungry, have fun.
 And a song is born.

Last night I've dreamed with my mother.
She had a baby in her arms. That baby was me. This is no riddle or metaphor, thought it can be seen as such. It was the weirdest dream I've ever had. I held myself gently, because I'd never held a baby before. Carefully I took myself from my mother's embrace and I said to myself:

"Seize these years, and don't be too rush to grow up. When we're kids, we want to grow up. When we're grown up, we want to be kids."

Maybe I just need a love as I had before. Only then growing up will feel that good...

Don't worry about me. I'm not sad. Nothing's wrong.
I've just grown up.