days so I have enough. Dejected, listless, disillusioned, generally des-all with the lolita. Not that I think about quitting, no, not that. But something, something that has changed in my relation to him.
few months ago looked ecstatic pages and auction sites and could not ever choose which of these exquisite pieces of clothing I liked better, which wanted more to have. Now I look, and I find almost nothing that makes me feel that passionate love. There is, of course there is, but little less. I do not want to dress like a Christmas tree, because, lately, when viewed from sweet, I feel out of place, disink, disassociated, I'm not myself. And I have only wanted to go back, back where I have the feeling that I lost myself two years ago, in the dark, mysterious, the magical, the Gothic Lolita. But it's so hard to retrace his steps, and no I'm not sure I wanted to forget everything I've been during this time Was it a lie that I was pink, blue, green or yellow?. No, it was not. But now I'm black, brown, red, gray.
Who knows where I will take this wonderful and fascinating world that is the lolita this time. Farther, farther, I want to always carry much further. The Lolita is like a rose, b
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