Remains. Not to care about

I was wondering today whether someone really takes care of me from somewhere high in the sky. And I somehow reached the painful conclusion that there are only a few persons from this big shit called Earth that care about me. Simple as hell.

I watch The Apprentice. I read some romanian chronicles saying that Donald Trump is a kind of Gigi Becali in the American View. Which is pretty interesting. And predictable, if I somehow try put to a severe analysis his hair.

"Can you feel a little love?
Dream on, dream on..."

Wandering. Bucharest is not anymore that full-of-energy city, the one that conquered me ever since I was born. It's just another city.
Is this what it happens when you get to see the world and its people?

"When I feel the warmth of you very soul
I forget I'm cold
And crying.
When you're lips touch mine
And I lose control
I forget I'm old
And dying."

Depeche Mode - I Want It All/Playing the Angel [2005]