A perfect time to live

by Rona Nushi

How I would love to be living in a paster time. Back when being pretty meant being natural, TV's were black and white and the true and bright colors were out there in the green grass and blue sky. When having fun didn't mean to spend tons of time inside a dark room using internet, or changing cafeterias every day and parting in a closed area, all foggy from the uncountable cigarettes and junk music playing on. Back then would be fun to spend time with friends in a valley, eating sandwiches and playing music with the guitar. Parting would mean spending the night boys and girls together, when parents went out of town for work and we can freely play that game with bottles, drink some alcohol and smoke a few cigarettes, hand to hand, everyone. The music playing on would be pure rock made of legendary singers and bands.Precious music!In that time when being a rebel didn't mean keeping a gun under your jacket or protesting for pointless things, but meant being the cool kid that used to wear different and protested for the right to freely kiss his girl at school, promote safe love or write a true article that would put politicians back into their place. How wonderful it would be for that guy I love to come and climb the tree and knock on the window of my room, bring me chocolates and flowers instead of toxic made-in-china perfumes. And most of all, I would be writing on my diary, made of paper, designed by me and perfumed with the flowers of my garden. Oh, darling, wouldn't that be wonderful?

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