The morning light was yet demanding. There was a taste
in my mouth of something long gone. I did not know how
the story was supposed to go from now on, but the
morning light was demanding action. I really wanted to
refuse the world in those empty mornings but that was not
a way to be.
What amazed me was that nothing really mattered
anymore – failure or success, not even love. It had become
almost shameful to still be capable to love and fall in love in
those ugly days.
There is terrible ugliness in the world, but there is also
sublime beauty. Bottom line is, at least the world is
knowable. Sooner or later, closer to the hearth or at the end
of the earth, the world gets to everyone.
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It’s truly a stasis.
Hold big thoughts and spend them on nothing.
The doors are closing now, run to the window.
I will await down to catch your spilled feelings.
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A water that shares too many seas. A sea that shares too many shores.
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The one who doubts in love is cursed to fail in life. No one knows this more than most of all. But I’d rather have a soul on my own. Tomorrow we’ll decide. Tomorrow is better than never, right? What do you say? I will always need my own place to bleed, you said you need to slow down the speed, of your life..what a strife!
Since I’ve been your number two and you’ve been my second choice, we fly on the clouds of our bitter oblivion.
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We are here not endlessly but carelessly. It’s all a trapped energy, a secret never known. All my thoughts I tried not to share, you make them come out, but I can’t say that you care. I’ve been in you before.
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He needed not clear his heart for he knew what was inside of it.
He needed to clear his head.
She tried to help. But
her words left only rehearsed and the meaning was not meant to be accepted.
‘If that’s what you want’, she spoke, ‘well, you can have it. I don’t want to sail against high tides or fly in a windy sky.’
And he let it all slip.
The way it never was. March 2014
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You call yourself a writer? Go write then, don’t complain about the lack of inspiration. You want to be a writer? Then you’ll have to sacrifice something, your love mainly…Be prepared to be rejected, ignored, don’t-minded, underestimated, looked down to, only because you are truthful and sincere in your life. In your life…what about your writing? Truthfulness, sincerity…your dignity and pride will be totally, fully demolished before you could realize how well you can manage them and how much of them you, in fact, possess. Your head will hurt, your heart will decay but not from the lack of love, from the lack of understanding. All that before you reach that point in your life in which you understand that the most important thing out there is yourself and your art capacity. That your pride is the tool to succeeding consistently and your dignity masters your every act of succession. These two are in a sense of self-respect. That’s all you are, all you ever were, all you’ll ever be. But it is not enough to know it, the key here is to realize it, to feel it in your every bone, to let it rush through your blood and exit you in the form of words. Written, spoken, whatever. All words are art.
But before all that could happen, you will suffer big time. You will be numb, tired, distracted, uninspired, broken, lost. You will stare at the world through only one point of view, and that is lethal for every writer. You will not know what to say, you will not know how to say what scratches your insides. You will not have confidence to use words as a medicine.
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Just don’t hold anything against me. Unless you decide to be with me. You left the room with my candles still burning and your thoughts yet mourning. I put on your smell and lit a cigarette. I didn’t want to let us both go to waste. Linger on. Fragments. It was all so so nigh but we played each other goodbye. Rudely honest. Full Moon. Half Life. Sleepless hours. Only lights. There was the kind of shit from our fragmented past that we kept behind our teeth. We guarded it, not to interfere with the totality of our common present.
Richard Avedon, The Comforts
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All I ever got was this burning cigarette that is never enough
and those faulty circumstances that are making everything so tough.
source: weheartit ( Taylor Momsen)
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