IF LOVE IS A RED DRESS HANG ME IN RAGS

Days go by. Life goes by. The Earth moves. We go by. Some of us go to sleep alone every night and wonder when things are gonna stop going by.
The medication, capricious as myself, lets me remember only some things. For example. I remember that someone told me that there were three things that you should never talk about, much less with strangers, and I agreed that they were polemical but I thought that because of that you should talk about them, that they defined the individual. They were politics, religion... and something else. I can't remember what was the third thing nor who told me nor when, but this is how the story goes and this is how I am telling it.
With the years, it's not only politcs and religion and whatever the third thing was that you don't mention. And now it's not because you want to cause a good impression or to avoid an argument. It's simply that reality has been draining you of your energies, and all the topics seem polluted.
What can you talk about? Studies? Err... Yeah, that's what people who are not studying think, and of course they wouldn't be interested in the conversation. Those who do study are too angry nowadays with the reform and the masters and all that to talk rationally and objectively. So, one topic that we rule out. Work then... Yep, cos we all love that one, don't we? No comment, unless we are signing up for hours and hours of whose job is the most miserable. So, let's think, we're twenty-something here, our happiest days, aren't they? so apart from politics, religion, studying, working, what do we do... go out? Yeah... Grown-ups (the real ones I mean, not us) would be surprised at how little we actually go out. We stopped doing that thing at 17 or so. Sex, drugs, rock and roll? Hate to confess that I seem to have popularized the vow of chastity among my friends. As for drugs, no no, never were too popular. And rock? Does any any of my friends listen to rock? Ok, we have Sam (in the US), Kyle (in Canada)... errrr.... David (only U2 and Led Zeppelin) and then we have some others of whose musical taste I am as yet uncertain.

So far we have discarded politics, religion, studies, work, going out, sex, drugs, music, as topics for talking, because they are either too stressing or too depressing. And this in a crowd in their twenties. And what do we talk about then? My professor has this theory that history is like a pendulum, one materialistic period is followed by a romantic period, followed by a materialistic period, followed by a romantic period... My professors, my workmates, random people, think that I am some sort of naive idiot, because I believe in miracles and in fairy tales. Well, I also believe that I am not the only one. I believe there many naif idiots, or at least a few, around. And I prefer to spend my whole life (which, I know, is not saying much) waiting for my miracle than accepting the material ugly world that the other people offer. The naif idiots like me, or like Diana, we talk about poetry and magic and love and fairy tales and what we wish would happen. I do realize I am too preoccupied with love. I'd like to rip up my heart and throw it away, so the birds could eat it. Or rather, I'd like my fairy tale to come true. I'd give anything, absolutely anything. They have given me the scholarship for Boston and I'm supposed to go there in September and it will all begin again. But in the end, my dream, my greatest fantasy, is to have someone to sleep with, someone who will tell me stories, hold me and who will stay with me, who will never let me go. I know that knights in shining armour are rare. But I don't actually require the shining armour anymore, just someone who will take care of me and bring me a bag full little miracles. That is a lot?