When enough is enough?
I ask myself this question lately, more often than a wish or want.
It has been a brutal four days weekend, starting on Friday’s night and finishing now.

When enough is enough?
Friday:
Mogwai was brutal, amazing, it really blew my head off (it also blew my ears) and in a way it blew myself off to a remote place, to a place that not even a string-can telephone could reach. I was far from everywhere and even there, my past reach me.
The intrigue, the gossip, the misunderstandings, the jealousy, is now here, tangible, in my eyes, in my life and in a way, in the people that surrounds me. I hate it.

When enough is enough?
When I’ll have to say: “go far away from here never to return”?

Saturday:
It was a really weird day, stranger than fiction I might say.
I drowned in a teen-series. Forget 90210, Melrose place, one tree hill, or more recently, the OC, a blend of all of them is close but not enough.
It blew my mind, I was far from here, and at the same time I was there and back in 2000 A.D.
My past is chasing me.

Sunday came and went my hair and my appetite for sadness with it.

Then Monday, also brutal, as a DeLorean that took me back to my fifteen years old, my past hidden in every step I take towards my future.

Finally, Tuesday:
It was a great day, I tasted happiness and tranquillity, but I felt hollow and sleepy. It was a day which I have dream about my last 3 years but it also is filled with my fears.

My past is hunting me down and I am tired of it.

When enough is enough? I keep asking to myself, when it will go away and let me be me again.

But may it be that I’m just over reacting, may be I’m just a drama queen, may be this is not as tragic as I see it. May be nothing is really there just as the monsters in the room that disguise themselves as clothes over a chair and hide their voices in the branches of the tree that hits my window every night while I’m asleep dreaming about Today.