midnight.

It's midnight. I've just smoked a cigarette in my own bedroom (subversive, for a person like me) after a unique episode of Sex&The City. Maybe that's why this post it's gonna be in english, maybe not. Sometimes all you need is a good version of yourself running over your face on a big 42' screen.
Somewhere between waiting for some orange sign to light up my feelings and getting in my pijamas and pretend that i'm good enough for sleep, I choose writing. Maybe this will look like another Bridget Jones or Carrie Bradshaw (thanks God i'm not alone!)story, or maybe this is just me. Me? I'm a 21 year-old girl who is going on a cross-ocean trip in about 20 days, who has the greatest friends in the world and a boyfriend that makes me feel happy like i didn't some years ago. In a normal state of mind I wouldn't be complaining at all, but normality is not my best on these early days.
I'm having a lot of time to think. From things that I should have said in the past to my obssesive way of getting my socks in order, everything was re-thought. The last thing was about loneliness. Loneliness (on my new definition way) it's like a refrigerator. You're in there, on a shelf cruely located between the eggs and the beef, just waiting for someone to open up it's door, even if is just to say "ok, nothing in here, let's order some pizza".
Ok, maybe I'm just overreacting. And if I don't? Am I too crazy to think that I'm a poor girl that was left in a haunted city (at this time of the year, believe me...it's worst than the village of Poltergeist)with no friends and no love? Oh my God, I just feel my hormones going up and down like a non-stop ride rollercoaster.
I didn't believe when people said that writing was such a relaxing way to...hmm..relax. More fascinating than reading. Less stressful than the orange sign.

By the way, my mind is all about the orange sign right now, but pretend that you don't know that.