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Not my type



Atunci...

Cand m-ai intalnit pe trepte, nu ai schitat nici un zambet. M-ai privit, intrebandu-te, oare ai cui sunt acei ochi pe care nu ai avut cum sa nu ii observi. Atunci ei ti-au raspuns ca nu vei ajunge sa ii cunosti si s-au indreptat catre ultima treapta, cand mana ta ferma mi-a intins o carte de vizita.

Acum...

Vreau sa stii ca imi displace culoarea camasii tale de astazi, faptul ca mereu gasesti cel mai bun loc de parcare si ajungi la timp dimineata.
Imi displace completa ta lipsa de prietenie cu lama de ras si obsesia stupida de a pozitiona cana de cafea pe biroul meu.
Imi displace faptul ca nu ai observat nici pana acum lipsa mea de interes in conversatiile care degenereaza mereu in schimburi puternice de opinii diferite.
Imi displace dorinta ta de a fi dragut cu toata lumea, popularitatea involuntara pe care ai castigat-o si, mai nou, florile pe care mi le lasi in sertar, constient fiind de faptul ca orice planta nu supravietuieste mai mult de o zi in preajma mea.




Imi displace ca stii si ceea ce nu ar trebui sa stii.

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