Those linden trees...

The smell of linden trees. I always forget to zip up my purse when I walk out of the house.I walk down the alley, I cross the street and never even give a though as to how bright the sun is shining...The smell of linden trees!
At times I forget to think and like a walking zombie I just rush through my days. Then there are those days when it feels like waking up. That is when I promise myself I will never fall in so deeply. The smell of linden trees! I believe, I dream, I breath and grow along, I hope, I pray, I cry and smile, I yearn...The smell of linden trees.
I lose hope, I lose my strive, I lose myself. Pain, forgiveness, regret. This is not a story for everyone to perceive. It is not even a story. It is a moulded, twisted, tangled representation of what used to be feelings. I see, I bloom, I open my eyes and look at the leaves. The smell of linden trees overwhelms me, washes over me over with the river of memories. Whose are these memories? Sticky and obscure, they are heavy like the feeling of feebleness before the very end. And what is the end anyways? Doesn't a new begging always wait around the corner? The smell of linden trees... I haven't passed a single night without dreaming for fourteen years now. If I loose my dreams it means loosing everything I own. Or do they own me?
I search, finding seems far away, I still hope, I learned to live for hope. The smell of linden trees taught me!