The Stone Roses
I Wanna Be Adored

The grayness of the sky oppresses me, I leave the house even if it doesn’t get much better, i try to forget that the system every day annihilates me and makes me conform to the hypocritical mass that every day keeps the wheels of an invisible machine turning.

The group from Manchester, Stone Roses, try to make away with the problem by engaging in an exclusive work that would lay the foundation for the birth of Britpop groups, imposing a lifestyle much like Lapo’s, pampered by tabloids, my ammonia retreats at the sight of people flaunting wealth and preaching bullshit, and there are people who believe it and buy CDs for these fake working-class with Cartier.

The color of my room makes me sick, I struggle to gather my strength, and there's no need to be Fabri Fibra to express the apathy that pours out of my ears, and if God exists, he has already left me in his failures.

Despite the demon speaking to me, I try to forget the pictures, smells, flashes, wishes, and memories, I listen to the music and move forward.

Tired of my CD store, I decided not to buy records anymore, and when I look in the mirror I do not recognize myself, and if my face looks tired it's because the nightmare continues, and if only it were a horror movie, and now when you close the internet I'm finished, I stay here on the pages of a site populated by bigots, it's been three years that I've been trying to prove something, I try but I can't. I prefer to stay alone in silence, my moves now will be more enterprising, and since there are friends born from nothing I continue to pull and I don't let myself be blinded by labels, fashion, from the system, from the clichés.

I got tired of the school building I attend, and also for this I spit pieces of lung during breaks, and I look at the people surrounding me badly because I honestly can't share anything with them, at least they haven't seen as I see… .

And I've been losing patience and stop at the brush, stop at writing, I shut my mouth, I cover my eyes and cut my ears so at least society will put me in a corner for a reason, for this spartan thinking many of us already left with the mind, others have left for too many cigarettes, others because they made drugs a style of life, others because they ended up in jail too young and lost the key.

Once I thiked to be pure but when I think about myself I think that I wanna be adored and I understand how much human beings are inclined to error, too much bad vibes, among joints that destroy my emotions I finish my cigarette, and I return at home, like many of us have done in the past.

Too much for me, I bring home myself and I close into the goto music, the music godo, Chat bring to god, not the one from labels, from the system of songs imposed by television and the system of masters…

I am a Zyon not a Babylon, Bob Marley had seen well, the enemy is at the gates and I noticed it before you at an age when you were thinking about having fun…

The low pervade my heart…

Waiting for better days, fear and loathing in Rome… . against the system of masters

Ded to: my broken dreams