poniedziałek, 14 marca 2011

Is a house really a home when your loved ones are gone

I really do like this place. I like the trees and the alleys. I like people, all of them. Even the bad ones. I do like whe atmosphere in this place. Despite the fact, that this atmosphere is not the good one. I never thought that I'll be living in here again. But here i am. I'm almost nineteen, smoking cigarette by the window and loving new me more than ever. Maby it's just another beginning with short vadility. I don't care because I have hope. A lot of hope and dreams, I am stronger than last time. I can feel the changes. Not only in me. Also in my mother and my father, in my friends and people that I'm passing on the street every morning. My house is a home even if my father is not love me like he should love his daughter. We don't talk again. I'm alone but happy this time. My mother is better. She is trying to stay sober. She is doing it pretty well. I know that i can't change past but i will change future. I will use all my power to make my life better. I'm going to school again. I have problems with teachers and past absence but i'll work it out. I know that. I am going to believe in me. This is the way to winning