A term used by Italian girlfriend and described so well this cause I'm single with my personality ... but I realize more and more, and to my surprise, common to all the girls I know.
Yes, this mission to save life, to change, to reveal, behind a grumpy and selfish character, background and pure altruism.
This arrogance of power to influence, change, alter, release ... This desire to be the engine of a metamorphosis, the analogue of beautiful things, the rationale of a being, the muse of an individual previously imbued with the ruse.
All the girls want to ca. And all the girls think. They could for their beautiful eyes, their attention, the dance of the hips, angelic smile, their difference and their mere existence change this bad boy so far. And they try their luck.
Driven by an instinct perhaps by a mother and probably somewhat carnal desire, they have eyes only for those who only destroy his way, whatever his age, heart girls.
They say, with a haughty and chin slightly raised, glass in hand and smile malignant, for them, this guy wants to cross oceans insolent.
Then they will put the necessary effort, they consider different approaches, as Machiavellian as sincere, much more to gain than to please him.
Because they want to be the first. The first to be dug in the permanent transience. Bad Boy and converted is the dream of every girl.
The Red Cross mission ... what a beautiful expression. A mission under the banner of love, perhaps. Surely the arrogance. Can we change someone ... really?
Is it love each other? I know. Is it a personal challenge? Surely.
But is it worth? I do not really believe.
Why change the world ... when there are at every street corner, in every bar in every subway station, and on every street and many sincere people who do not require all this way.
This would be too easy, they tell me. And I debate.
But even me ... even I wanted once, with all the conviction that goes with it and perfect abstraction of failure, transforming an offender into a prince.
And in our usual coffee, about a late lunch after a Friday evening abusive, three, we talk with laughs and frights this nonsense tough.
The conclusion is uncertain. The conversation I hurt. Because I did not realize until then that this game was not clean to me.
And I decide, in my heart, eyes that shine have suddenly understood everything, the bad boys ... put a cross. Red. And then I move.
Prior to realize that it's my heart that decides ... often. And it has never been intelligent.
Rouge. Anger this time.
Definitely. Nothing depends on me.
A Marianna and Julia ...
© 
0 comments:
Post a Comment