Maybe someday we could take our time, and I could show you this love of mine. And you could use your words so fine, and nothing would leave us blind. We’ll run on the pavement of clouds, and lowly we’ll leave our doubts. And nothing will fool us false. I want to forever be close.… Continue reading as of now
It's not really about the ground or the neutral state of consciousness of the mob. In any case many people spend most of their lives thinking about nothing in particular and talking about the same. Many people spend most of their lives imitating love and ignoring the same. Trading love for attention or need and… Continue reading In any case
No one's ground, no one's fault. no one's decision, no one's mistake. It's just the way the world spins and the sun rises. That's just the way the waves roll and the birds sing. Only if there was someone to hear them, to see them. People occupied, preoccupied, reoccupied, too occupied with the world that… Continue reading No one’s ground
He was like water to me – clear and transparent. I could drink him up in a breath but I didn’t want to. It wasn't cool. He didn’t deserve to be forgotten so easily afterwards. Nonetheless, it is an interesting world that we are living in – everyone is trying to close their eyes and… Continue reading accidentally chosen
The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2014 annual report for this blog. Here's an excerpt: A San Francisco cable car holds 60 people. This blog was viewed about 730 times in 2014. If it were a cable car, it would take about 12 trips to carry that many people. Click here to see the… Continue reading 2014 in review
Too close to my skin. I'm falling in the borderline. A fitting representation of two souls as one.
It’s truly a stasis. Hold big thoughts and spend them on nothing. The doors are closing now, run to the window. I’ll catch you down and sell you for what’s finally `clear`.
That’s not me who you see. That’s where I live. It’s not me who walks on those sidewalks, who goes up and down the stairs. It’s not me who crosses the street. It’s not me who looks at you. It’s what I look through. It’s where I live now. That’s where my eternity is put… Continue reading Soul Disconnected
These little black dots just came out of their oblivion. They try to form themselves again on the other side. I like that try, I like that someday in which it all be worthy. But the message will never arrive, the birds dropped it in the ocean of forgetfulness. The idea is gone. But look… Continue reading The effeteness