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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=488397" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Good Night Old Self</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">unlike before, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">when i unlock a door<br>in a house where i have lived all alone<br>for years<br>i feel like crying<br>hearing the sound of the living room<br>in the anguish of the<br>silence that it has never chosen</div><div style="margin:10px 0">there is always the imagined sound of rain and</div><div style="margin:10px 0">it is eerie</div><div style="margin:10px 0">there is a spiteful <br>space that is always trying to strangle you<br>a hollow hole inside<br>my guts</div><div style="margin:10px 0">i must have gone beyond the demarcation line</div><div style="margin:10px 0">or i must have jumped that fence<br>having grown longer</div><div style="margin:10px 0">these pair of legs that have outgrown the<br>looseness of corduroy pants</div><div style="margin:10px 0">now it is different</div><div style="margin:10px 0">i feel the content of having to accept that when i was born<br>i never had a twin</div><div style="margin:10px 0">now the silence of this room is comforting<br>telling me that the crowd in fact does not serve<br>but chokes you as well<br>with whatever whims it has</div><div style="margin:10px 0">what to do with my life<br>or where to do things the way they should be properly done</div><div style="margin:10px 0">i am fed up with all these dictates of the mob<br>i have proclaimed that i am a different reality</div><div style="margin:10px 0">in fact more beautiful than the face of the average<br>the many, the crowding people</div><div style="margin:10px 0">as i open this door, i hear the song of my own silence<br>sweeter than ever</div><div style="margin:10px 0">i leave my dirty shoes <br>take off my stinking socks<br>i lie my body on the soft sofa<br>and take my sleep</div><div style="margin:10px 0">i don't even need a television to make my eyes<br>weary and<br>thus have the much needed sleep.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">good night old self. I shall dream anew.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Ric+S.+Bastasa">Ric S. Bastasa</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=488397" data-title="Good Night Old Self de Ric S. Bastasa" data-description="unlike before, 

when i unlock a door
in a house where i have lived all alone
for years
i feel like crying
hearing the sound of the living room
in the anguish of the
silence that it has never chosen

there is always the imagined sound of rain and
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