Girl, you're glamorous, famous, notorious, dangerous...and he's the crazy one, you say. : )

Many things have been said about perfection by now.

The main idea is that we already know perfection doesn't exist. Then you might ask yourself, why is M still writing about this used idea?

It doesn't exist, ok. Yet, I write and you're reading about it, as you and me continue to wish for it and to aim for it...and it's great to have a purpose in life. 

So, you see, I share this purpose with you, my imperfect readers. : )

I'm happy to know that perfection still hasn't been defined in a 100% certain way, since one's perfection is surely not like another's. 

Thus, my stubbornness created a belief in my mind, which keeps telling me everyday that perfection can be achieved in the end, even if it means I have to take baby steps.
I know that every big thing has to start somewhere and needs time to grow. So I'm patient. For this purpose, I own quality-patience. :)

This is where I will start my "perfect" series, where, step by step, perfection will eventually be created. 

You'll see. : )

I have many ideas for creating perfection. 

But beginning things always kills me. even if I've said before that I love beginnings. I do love them, the feeling of butterflies in my stomach is always nice...but it still creates a hole in my soul, killing tiny bits of it every time. It's like losing brain cells you know you will never get back.

Having this said...to be continued.

I'm a true-blue romantic. But sometimes I embrace reality with my cruel soul. 

Many people have seen both sides. And I fear both of them, in equal measures.

I learned that sweet&cute coincidences are coincidences and nothing more.

Because if we start seeing something repeatedly, it may be sweet and cute, but it means nothing to the untrained mind. To the trained mind it means just that it has been trained very good in that aspect.

Rehab is for quitters. I miss smoking and I'm a hypocrite for telling people to stop smoking.

I will give myself an additional year before I will stop feeling guilty for telling people to quit smoking. Until then, I'm still in probation.

Speaking of which, tequila is back in my life. :heart:

Let's take "I will always", but let's just say something about "I never" and a little bit about "I love you".

I equally hate and love the above 3 dangerous words/foolishnesses.

Yesterday evening I dined at a restaurant who is now high on my favourite places' list.

Best sea food and desert I've ever had. I'm starting to fall in love with Cuba.

"Nothing is more powerful than the human spirit."

"Life is about creating yourself."

So do something good, while you're at it.

Returning today from Ljubljana I realised I haven't thought enough above my friend, Paris, in a while.

I will never forget you, Paris. But Paris, you see, we will meet in another lifetime, when we will both be cats. 

We have to.

Hit it, Gary:

Your guitar still brings the chills down my spine.

You either have it. 

Or you don't.

50% chances for you to make it, which is still not such a tragic case, one might say.

But it's not enough. 50% chances are never enough for you to be able to touch the stars from the floor of the small room you've isolated yourself in by now. They can merely help you grab a stool and stand on it, but your hands will barely even reach those shinier 65% chances. 

One might also say that 65% chances do sound better than the 50% you had before grabbing that small stool in the corner. So you listen to one's voice and now you get the courage to go even higher. Thus said, minutes later, you're standing on a stool, with a broom in your hand, stretching your body towards the ceiling. 

85%. 

Not bad, not bad at all, I'm quite a bit impressed.

I might dare to say that you do look a bit ridiculous, you know. ;-)) 

A grown up, standing on a stool, holding a broom, stretching like a kid for the candy on the top shelf. :-) 

But you're not hearing me anymore, do you? 

Of course you don't. Now there are only 15% chances between you and your desired 100%, so you forget in a glimpse about my annoying voice...now you're thinking only about what you should do to get your remaining 15%. 

You take a look around, but there's nothing else in your tiny room. In your tiny, isolation room there's just a silly grown-up, standing on a stool, holding a broom, reaching to the lamp. 

So the silly grown-up decides to jump. 

50% chances to fall, 50% chances to make it work. 

Oh, Alice...

You go get them 15% chances, girl. :)

You know I rarely lose my words, my kind, serious friend. 

I rarely stop thinking, so I rarely can get away from reality - even when I'm dreaming, I still can't convince my feet to get off the ground completely. 

But when I do lose my words, please, show me patience. 

I know that patience is not my favourite quality of them all, but this is the thing...since I cannot have it all the time, I love quality-patience and the people who can afford it. It's that patience that doesn't give you the sentiment of wasting time, it's that patience that gives you the warm and fuzzy feeling that, yes, yes, a thousand times, yes, it's worth it... It's that beautiful thing that comes up with a bucket of white roses at the end of the rainbow. 

So, for moments when I need you to show me your quality-patience, be sure that, in return, my smile will grow small, white roses, just for you to keep in your upper-left pocket.

Thank you for your patience, meine ernste Freund. :)