Stories from a Bambusbaer

"Some song lyrics hit differently when you are older."  It's not simple to say Most days I don't recognize me That these shoes and this apron That place and its patrons Have taken more than I gave them It's not easy to know I'm not anything like I used to be Although it's true I was never attention's sweet center I still remember that girl She's imperfect, but she tries She is good, but she lies She is hard on herself She is broken and won't ask for help She is messy, but she's kind She is lonely most of the time She is all of this mixed up And baked in a beautiful pie She is gone, but she used to be mine It's not what I asked for Sometimes life Just slips in through a backdoor And carves out a person Who makes you believe it's all true And now I've got you You're not what I asked for If I'm honest, I know I would give it all back for A chance to start over And rewrite an ending or two For the girl that I knew Who'll...

 “How much money do you have?” You asked. “Only this.” I opened my black wallet and handed you a ten euros bank note.  “Damn, my poor little baby..” you shook your head. Disbelieve, as you received the money. I shrugged with a sad look. I showed you my wallet which was filled with three debit cards, insurance cards, student cards, and some membership cards from different stores, and also some receipts I’ve been keeping there for a couple of months, just in case I need them.  “Financial crisis here..” I opened the empty part where I was supposed to put my money.  “It’s ok. We will go through this.” You patted my head as if trying to comfort me.  “And you, how much money do you have now?” I knew the answer, I just wanted to joke around. “Nothing in here of course.” You grinned, and your teeth gap looked visible. My favorite. You pulled your card holder from your jeans pocket. It was my gift to you, not meant to be used as a wallet, but you did as it was much more ...