vi var alla unga, mer eller mindre begåvade och vi var vackra



The only people for me are the mad ones.
Too mad to live alongside with taxes, regular meals and waiting for weekends to live
too mad to waste time on enough sleep, on diets and detox,
too mad to care about money, enough money, always having money,
too mad to put their boyfriends in front of friends,
too mad to abstain from making life into the greatest performance, to live the art, too mad to stand in and corner and flirt in the normal way but either dance dance dance with themselves or go straight up to the Desire and kiss his beautiful lips,
too mad to listen to their bodies rather than their instincs, too mad to quit smoking too mad to quit drinking too mad to quit living because its monday, too mad to be polite without real reason,
too mad to ever believe in impossibilities, too mad to accept a "I m sorry" without sorting the problem out, too mad to doubt their own beauty intelligence and ability to learn,
too mad to fit in, too mad to even try, too mad to listen to any other voice than the one within,
too mad to forget what they dreamt last night, too mad to be consistent, too mad to let a single second pass by without making it special.
Too mad to live too mad to do anything else than just that.
And too mad to get stagefright from all this.

There is only one danger with the mad ones, with the people that no one can stop from running straight forward. Please please all beautiful mad ones, please take care of yourselves. Please be too mad to just disappear.

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