azi e ceai de menta, un zambet amar si un drum abrupt spre singuratate.
A trecut ceva timp, nu mult, de cand te privesc, te aud, ma incanti, ma inveti... Te vad in fiecare seara, cand simt ca timpul deschide cai spre confesiune... Te vad chiar daca nu esti, si asta ma face sa cred ca intr-adevar existi.
Nu iti cunosc ochii si totusi le simt licarirea... si praful de pe gene.. M-au purtat nopti de-a randul cuvintele tale si mi-am pierdut drumul spre casa. l-am gasit apoi tot prin tine..
Ti-am vazut mastile si bucuria, ti-am vazut si inima ascunsa si-am scris pe ea simplu: "minciuna"... si iar am regretat.
Exista melancolii pe care nu le-ai da in schimbul niciunei bucurii imense si zgomotoase.. Ei bine, uite-ma, captiva celei mai inaltatoare melancolii.. Si din nou te vad... te vad asa cum imi vad ridurile din suflet.
Te-am vazut razand noapte de noapte, impaturand timpul in inima ta mare si lasandu-te prada momentelor de nebunie... As fi vrut sa te chem, dar nu m-ai fi auzit.. si nu ai fi inteles... Eu m-am imprastiat la rascruce de vanturi, bucati din mine pluteau si-n jurul tau noapte de noapte.. Dar si eu sunt doar o masca a ta.
Am scapat o bucata din inima, in tine.. M-am pierdut acolo, cu greu am invatat sa respir in inima altcuiva...
Si-asa te-am vazut noapte de noapte, clipa de clipa, atunci cand nu striveai timpul in pumn.. Si-ai simtit ca-s parte din tine si totusi nu sunt... E doar un ciob de inima speriata, care te vede... Priveste-ma si tu, si-asculta... Si nu iubi... Mai bine lasa-ma sa-ti scot ciobul din inima.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Monday, July 4, 2011
disguised
i admit it, i like being a mess. it's who i am. trapped in a maze of emotions, choked with the dust of the past and the sand of tomorrow, i am a mess. and i dont belong to myself. it's like there's a mad hoerder who saves everything he finds: worthless pieces, wonderful things, shiny or monochrome stuff that might come his way... he saves them all, in the worst and best place ever: inside of me. i'm a mess with pretty hair. and i wont run away from it. yesterday i remembered a particular part of my mess... that's the Goodbye part, all the goodbyes i said along the way..
Five years ago, my friend brings his girlfriend to a worship meeting. I see her, i'm amazed of her natural blond hair, and i know i already know a part of her soul. she knows too, because we stare at eachother for a minute... After the concert, we go to the cemetary, my favorite place to mend broken pieces of my heart. He stays in front of a grave stone, lost in his own little world; she... turns her back to us and floates to a black, shiny stone. her shoulders are shaking, i can tell she's crying. i feel her pain so deep, that my eyes fill with tears too. why do i have to feel so intense?) i steal a white flower, a carnation, from an abandoned grave on which the wind had carried flowers (nobody is forgotten..), i pat the blond girl on the shoulder and i hand her the flower.. she starts to cry so hard, that i hold her in my arms... (There's music in the air, a sad rock song coming from my friend's ipod.. ) we stay there for a while, we bond, we connect, we feel, we love... When we part, we exchange addresses, and they go home, to the pretty town with the pretty castle... The next day, we start writing to eachother.. she comes to visit once, i wait for her in the train station and she brings a smile and a knitted bag for me, just for me, made by her own blond hands... We listen to music, we share secrets, we visit eachother a lot, we bond even more when we find we have the same deepest obsession that we never shared with anyone... we have sleepovers, we cook together, we love eachother... I dont share like that with anyone, and she lets me in her darkest part of life.. I'm there, holding her hand; she's holding mine.. When i visit her in the pretty town with the pretty castle, i see she has kept the flower.. it's now dry, but perfect... it looks even better when it's dry, it looks like the colour of her hair that holds my heart beats... After a while, she moves farther away, and we still write to eachother. But i'm afraid she might love me more that i can offer her.. i'm afraid the mess inside me will catch her along and mess her up as well, even more that she already is.. I need her so much, but i run away from her, just as i did with all the wonderful people in my life.. I don't wanna let her down.. i know how it feels, i had my heart broken a thousand times by the same girl, and i wouldnt want to hurt other people the way i was hurt. so i wont hurt my blond friend. she's just a chapter in my novel, she's just a face in my painting.. So i leave, and she doesnt object, she knows... She knows how much my heart bleeded so many times before, that what i feel it's not pain anymore, but nostalgia. so she is brave, i am brave. we say goodbye because we're afraid of friendship....
I hear she's well now, she's happy and loved the way she deserves to be... And she still keeps my dry flower next to her bed, so she wont forget that someone had the power to love her from the first minute...
Five years ago, my friend brings his girlfriend to a worship meeting. I see her, i'm amazed of her natural blond hair, and i know i already know a part of her soul. she knows too, because we stare at eachother for a minute... After the concert, we go to the cemetary, my favorite place to mend broken pieces of my heart. He stays in front of a grave stone, lost in his own little world; she... turns her back to us and floates to a black, shiny stone. her shoulders are shaking, i can tell she's crying. i feel her pain so deep, that my eyes fill with tears too. why do i have to feel so intense?) i steal a white flower, a carnation, from an abandoned grave on which the wind had carried flowers (nobody is forgotten..), i pat the blond girl on the shoulder and i hand her the flower.. she starts to cry so hard, that i hold her in my arms... (There's music in the air, a sad rock song coming from my friend's ipod.. ) we stay there for a while, we bond, we connect, we feel, we love... When we part, we exchange addresses, and they go home, to the pretty town with the pretty castle... The next day, we start writing to eachother.. she comes to visit once, i wait for her in the train station and she brings a smile and a knitted bag for me, just for me, made by her own blond hands... We listen to music, we share secrets, we visit eachother a lot, we bond even more when we find we have the same deepest obsession that we never shared with anyone... we have sleepovers, we cook together, we love eachother... I dont share like that with anyone, and she lets me in her darkest part of life.. I'm there, holding her hand; she's holding mine.. When i visit her in the pretty town with the pretty castle, i see she has kept the flower.. it's now dry, but perfect... it looks even better when it's dry, it looks like the colour of her hair that holds my heart beats... After a while, she moves farther away, and we still write to eachother. But i'm afraid she might love me more that i can offer her.. i'm afraid the mess inside me will catch her along and mess her up as well, even more that she already is.. I need her so much, but i run away from her, just as i did with all the wonderful people in my life.. I don't wanna let her down.. i know how it feels, i had my heart broken a thousand times by the same girl, and i wouldnt want to hurt other people the way i was hurt. so i wont hurt my blond friend. she's just a chapter in my novel, she's just a face in my painting.. So i leave, and she doesnt object, she knows... She knows how much my heart bleeded so many times before, that what i feel it's not pain anymore, but nostalgia. so she is brave, i am brave. we say goodbye because we're afraid of friendship....
I hear she's well now, she's happy and loved the way she deserves to be... And she still keeps my dry flower next to her bed, so she wont forget that someone had the power to love her from the first minute...
Saturday, May 14, 2011
reminiscing...
Lately, my soul has sounded like Jon Foreman's song, "the cure for the pain"... I doubt that someone would actually read this post, this blog, but if someone does,.. if YOU do, then... listen to this, it has an immediate effect on one's heart...
A man of God once told me that i need to spend a lot of time thinking that "there is a time for everything"; that i should actually mark in my diary everything that i discover concerning "everything in its own time"... And i did that, if not in writting, at least in feeling, and thinking...
I had tried to find a cure for the pain, but... oooooh, the verses from Ecclesiastes 3 seemed to tell me that it was time for me to throw away all the worries and doubts.. to embrace the mistery again, to taste the unknown , to enter the narrow gate again... So i started to build a valuable faith, knowing that God sees my struggle... I had to learn that indeed, there is a time to tear and to mend, to love and to hate, to be silent and to speak, to search and to give up, but the hardest to accept was verse 8: "a time for war and a time for peace."... The war has its own time... even the war is allowed by God... Even the wounds, burns and longing for home; the agony of a war where you doubt your own existence, when the death that you see everywhere seems to rot in your bones and you feel that nowhere will you find salvation... when you feel that even God has turned His eyes away from you and not even the dreams hold the promise of a fullfilled future... So even this war, this emotional struggle, has its own time (and may i add, purpose...) And then.. there's PEACE... even peace is prophesied... When the battle freezes you more than you can bare, when you feel that nothing could ever warm you up again, there comes the Peace, like a spring from Heaven,.. the peace promised long time ago, before knowing there would even be a war... Even the Peace has an appointed time... And it gently flows over you, taking care of the wounds dug in your meat, in your heart... The wounds remain, and unlike the birth pains, these will never be forgotten.. They make you old, they humble you, but the peace comes in its time, and tames them. The war grows you so you can learn to receive peace... And peace gets you closer to God...
These were my thoughts 4 years ago, and now, after such a long time, i remembered that period, and i was surprised to find myself dealing with some of the same matters, only now, i'm joyfull and patient,.. now, my faith has grown in the One who showed me His glory some summers ago... 4 years ago, i was a lost soldier trying to win a war that i never understood. Now, i'm a found soul in the hands of the supreme PEACE... There was a time for war, because i learnt to appreciate peace. and peace, .. well.. it got me closer to Life:)
A man of God once told me that i need to spend a lot of time thinking that "there is a time for everything"; that i should actually mark in my diary everything that i discover concerning "everything in its own time"... And i did that, if not in writting, at least in feeling, and thinking...
I had tried to find a cure for the pain, but... oooooh, the verses from Ecclesiastes 3 seemed to tell me that it was time for me to throw away all the worries and doubts.. to embrace the mistery again, to taste the unknown , to enter the narrow gate again... So i started to build a valuable faith, knowing that God sees my struggle... I had to learn that indeed, there is a time to tear and to mend, to love and to hate, to be silent and to speak, to search and to give up, but the hardest to accept was verse 8: "a time for war and a time for peace."... The war has its own time... even the war is allowed by God... Even the wounds, burns and longing for home; the agony of a war where you doubt your own existence, when the death that you see everywhere seems to rot in your bones and you feel that nowhere will you find salvation... when you feel that even God has turned His eyes away from you and not even the dreams hold the promise of a fullfilled future... So even this war, this emotional struggle, has its own time (and may i add, purpose...) And then.. there's PEACE... even peace is prophesied... When the battle freezes you more than you can bare, when you feel that nothing could ever warm you up again, there comes the Peace, like a spring from Heaven,.. the peace promised long time ago, before knowing there would even be a war... Even the Peace has an appointed time... And it gently flows over you, taking care of the wounds dug in your meat, in your heart... The wounds remain, and unlike the birth pains, these will never be forgotten.. They make you old, they humble you, but the peace comes in its time, and tames them. The war grows you so you can learn to receive peace... And peace gets you closer to God...
These were my thoughts 4 years ago, and now, after such a long time, i remembered that period, and i was surprised to find myself dealing with some of the same matters, only now, i'm joyfull and patient,.. now, my faith has grown in the One who showed me His glory some summers ago... 4 years ago, i was a lost soldier trying to win a war that i never understood. Now, i'm a found soul in the hands of the supreme PEACE... There was a time for war, because i learnt to appreciate peace. and peace, .. well.. it got me closer to Life:)
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
another two years older, and three more steps behind...
i'm constantly missing home, friendship and warmth... Two evenings ago, i opened all the windows, all the doors.. the wind was dancing around me, in the house, and the wet weather filled my lungs, forcing me into a sweet surrender... This song popped in my mind and i listened carefully to each lyric, letting the drizzle carry me to the most alive part of my past...
i grabbed all the pillows i could find, rushed to the balcony and choked the bench in soft material, and then dived right into them... oh, gosh, if you could see that sunset! i was totally lost, my heart stopped! all the sky was red, and the drizzle slapped my face, defying my tears, reminding me of something i though i'd lost... and then it hit me, the smell!! the smell of summer evenings in my country... the smell of me and friends around the fire, reading the bible and longing for God's presence in us... you know, that moist smell, the flavor of thin rain that caresses your face in your deepest search of divinity and Comfort... i had it again, i smelled it again, in this foreign place that i cant call my home! God gave me this glimpse of past that i thought i had lost... and it was liberating, so liberating... though my heart was torn, it was the best to praise Him in the storm... and i remembered these beautiful lyrics and the melody that always carried me through sad times:
"I remember when I stumbled in the wind
You heard my cry to You
and raised me up again
my strength is almost gone how can I carry on
if I can't find You
and as the thunder rolls
I barely hear You whisper through the rain
"I'm with you"
and as Your mercy falls
I raise my hands and praise
the God who gives and takes away "
i never can put into words my feeligs, as much as i try, i just cant.. i cant describe the feeling i had when, facing God's greatness, my annoying long nose smelled the summers of my highest days..I saw us together again, friends around the fire, praying crying laughing bonding through God's grace... i could feel our warmth, as i stood still on the fluffy pillows... my husband wanted to close the windows, he was cold.. well i was burning! how can a memory, how can a smell and a visual sight get you to physically feel what you've felt many years ago? is it just me? is it a miracle for my wearry soul? it sure felt that way... And i was flying, trying to enjoy the living memory to the max, but on the other hand, i was broken... because, even though my bible was shinning in my hands, i was alone. and i wondered once again, isnt God enough for me?..well, as ashamed i am to admit it, sometimes, He's just not.. i wished i had my friends, or any other soul, close to me.. to feel the wonder.. but i had to give it to Him.. He brought order in my chaos, and He brough beauty in my empty days...
still... i realised just how big of a storm is my inner being... i cant be myself in this strange land, i cant find th peace i had back home.. only scattered feelings slide in what used to be ME and i dont know if it's the helplesness that chokes me, or if it's the regret and the attemt of living a different past, a different me in a different scenario.. The fact that i cant be myself, that i cant let God be himself in me, .. it kills me... I'm longing for rain in a deserted place and no one knows and never will know how my heart beats today.
In the soul, a sad morning shines. In the eyes, a sad longing for Heaven simmers. God does everything He can to bring me back, i see this, i feel it, but... i defy everything and i move along on an empty path.. I remember what a man of prayer told me once when he had a vision about me.. He saw me walking alone on a long street,crying quietly, and told me that this will be my life's destiny, to never be completely understood.. but then,he saw a Man, who started walking along side me, with his head bowed down, and he started to cry with me. we walked a long time in silence, until i stopped and asked Him who He was.. He said He was Jesus, and He'll never ask questions, He'll just walk beside me all my life, cry with me and rejoyce with me... I remember i was pissed!! i hated that vision! me, never understood, never accepted completely?? me, walking with a Jesus that can only cry when i'm lost?? oooh, how much i underestimated Him and His power in my life... it's been many years since that vision, and my life turned out to be pretty much what the man saw when he put his hands above my head... and Jesus pretty much does everything He promissed, he walks beside me, he's the bestfriend in the world... even though sometimes He's so quiet that i cant stand it!
oh and what did i learn from my 2-days-ago-experience? i learned that those years when God was just a supernatural force that had the power to forgive, give, take away, punish and forgive again, passed, are gone! He became the rainbow after the storms of my uncertainties and despair; the wing that carries my soul to universes unknown to others; the warm wing that is my HOME, home home home! and in this storm, i'm praising Him, and i'm moving forward, towards You, my Father... At the end of the road, it's not a gap. it's You.. the one who gave and took away, and the One who teaches me how to accept this fact.. friends or no friends, warmth or no warmth at all, You remain my all in all!
i grabbed all the pillows i could find, rushed to the balcony and choked the bench in soft material, and then dived right into them... oh, gosh, if you could see that sunset! i was totally lost, my heart stopped! all the sky was red, and the drizzle slapped my face, defying my tears, reminding me of something i though i'd lost... and then it hit me, the smell!! the smell of summer evenings in my country... the smell of me and friends around the fire, reading the bible and longing for God's presence in us... you know, that moist smell, the flavor of thin rain that caresses your face in your deepest search of divinity and Comfort... i had it again, i smelled it again, in this foreign place that i cant call my home! God gave me this glimpse of past that i thought i had lost... and it was liberating, so liberating... though my heart was torn, it was the best to praise Him in the storm... and i remembered these beautiful lyrics and the melody that always carried me through sad times:
"I remember when I stumbled in the wind
You heard my cry to You
and raised me up again
my strength is almost gone how can I carry on
if I can't find You
and as the thunder rolls
I barely hear You whisper through the rain
"I'm with you"
and as Your mercy falls
I raise my hands and praise
the God who gives and takes away "
i never can put into words my feeligs, as much as i try, i just cant.. i cant describe the feeling i had when, facing God's greatness, my annoying long nose smelled the summers of my highest days..I saw us together again, friends around the fire, praying crying laughing bonding through God's grace... i could feel our warmth, as i stood still on the fluffy pillows... my husband wanted to close the windows, he was cold.. well i was burning! how can a memory, how can a smell and a visual sight get you to physically feel what you've felt many years ago? is it just me? is it a miracle for my wearry soul? it sure felt that way... And i was flying, trying to enjoy the living memory to the max, but on the other hand, i was broken... because, even though my bible was shinning in my hands, i was alone. and i wondered once again, isnt God enough for me?..well, as ashamed i am to admit it, sometimes, He's just not.. i wished i had my friends, or any other soul, close to me.. to feel the wonder.. but i had to give it to Him.. He brought order in my chaos, and He brough beauty in my empty days...
still... i realised just how big of a storm is my inner being... i cant be myself in this strange land, i cant find th peace i had back home.. only scattered feelings slide in what used to be ME and i dont know if it's the helplesness that chokes me, or if it's the regret and the attemt of living a different past, a different me in a different scenario.. The fact that i cant be myself, that i cant let God be himself in me, .. it kills me... I'm longing for rain in a deserted place and no one knows and never will know how my heart beats today.
In the soul, a sad morning shines. In the eyes, a sad longing for Heaven simmers. God does everything He can to bring me back, i see this, i feel it, but... i defy everything and i move along on an empty path.. I remember what a man of prayer told me once when he had a vision about me.. He saw me walking alone on a long street,crying quietly, and told me that this will be my life's destiny, to never be completely understood.. but then,he saw a Man, who started walking along side me, with his head bowed down, and he started to cry with me. we walked a long time in silence, until i stopped and asked Him who He was.. He said He was Jesus, and He'll never ask questions, He'll just walk beside me all my life, cry with me and rejoyce with me... I remember i was pissed!! i hated that vision! me, never understood, never accepted completely?? me, walking with a Jesus that can only cry when i'm lost?? oooh, how much i underestimated Him and His power in my life... it's been many years since that vision, and my life turned out to be pretty much what the man saw when he put his hands above my head... and Jesus pretty much does everything He promissed, he walks beside me, he's the bestfriend in the world... even though sometimes He's so quiet that i cant stand it!
oh and what did i learn from my 2-days-ago-experience? i learned that those years when God was just a supernatural force that had the power to forgive, give, take away, punish and forgive again, passed, are gone! He became the rainbow after the storms of my uncertainties and despair; the wing that carries my soul to universes unknown to others; the warm wing that is my HOME, home home home! and in this storm, i'm praising Him, and i'm moving forward, towards You, my Father... At the end of the road, it's not a gap. it's You.. the one who gave and took away, and the One who teaches me how to accept this fact.. friends or no friends, warmth or no warmth at all, You remain my all in all!
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
amo en lo simple y lo compleja
yesterday night we spoke spanish for a while, and it reminded me of this song... i have such a strange feeling when i hear it,.. it might be a smell, or a dream, or a person, or a season.. i dont know.. but the song brings me back blind but peaceful memories...
what a terrible night, knowing that any second the alarm would go off and my baby will leave again to the most awful place... i've watched over him, learning his way of breathing by heart, fearing that i might lose him by going to sleep.. oh, if i could blend his body with mine, and keep it so tight that he'd never leave again...
my sweet man
my peace and joy...
i sometimes love my sadness and loneliness, but i cant bare seeing depression in his eyes... i see him every morning going to a place that crushes his dreams, and i let him go with the most desperate prayer on my lips, that he will come back happy.... but he comes back trembling, my baby comes back trembling... and i wanna die rather than see him crushed...
my baby... our song is burried in the light of your eyes, and i can only hope it will bring you great sight in the heart of things... when you are lonely, my whispered prayer will tickle your ears, and when in a crowded place, you will find redemption...
your dreams WILL come true, i promise this with all my heart! i will do everyhting in my power to bring back the joy on your face! let this promis light up your night and give you hope on your way...
we are so far away from everything that means LIFE, rehabilitation, salvation... we are trapped in the circle of imbalance..we've become a part of desert that's longing for relief.. not for rain, because the desert cant bare rain, but for relief...
i love him from far and from close, i love him with shadows and lights, i love him when there's nothing against us, and i love him more when it all turns around to bite us... everything that's in the world, i take it and divide it to two, and my baby feels my warmth cus otherwise he wouldnt survive in this shit hole...
for a few days, something unexpected happened: he became desperate for me, his lips have the shape of my name and every passing second that we have together is an ocassion to renew our love and addiction to eachother... our hearts are dancing together and this renews our home, it gives us more meaning than ever, because desperation brought us together, instead of locking us separately, in each of our own little worlds... he's the blooming wall of my captivity and we're trembling like leaves in front of the future, but our inner world is an eternal harmony that no one will ever steal!
what a terrible night, knowing that any second the alarm would go off and my baby will leave again to the most awful place... i've watched over him, learning his way of breathing by heart, fearing that i might lose him by going to sleep.. oh, if i could blend his body with mine, and keep it so tight that he'd never leave again...
my sweet man
my peace and joy...
i sometimes love my sadness and loneliness, but i cant bare seeing depression in his eyes... i see him every morning going to a place that crushes his dreams, and i let him go with the most desperate prayer on my lips, that he will come back happy.... but he comes back trembling, my baby comes back trembling... and i wanna die rather than see him crushed...
my baby... our song is burried in the light of your eyes, and i can only hope it will bring you great sight in the heart of things... when you are lonely, my whispered prayer will tickle your ears, and when in a crowded place, you will find redemption...
your dreams WILL come true, i promise this with all my heart! i will do everyhting in my power to bring back the joy on your face! let this promis light up your night and give you hope on your way...
we are so far away from everything that means LIFE, rehabilitation, salvation... we are trapped in the circle of imbalance..we've become a part of desert that's longing for relief.. not for rain, because the desert cant bare rain, but for relief...
i love him from far and from close, i love him with shadows and lights, i love him when there's nothing against us, and i love him more when it all turns around to bite us... everything that's in the world, i take it and divide it to two, and my baby feels my warmth cus otherwise he wouldnt survive in this shit hole...
for a few days, something unexpected happened: he became desperate for me, his lips have the shape of my name and every passing second that we have together is an ocassion to renew our love and addiction to eachother... our hearts are dancing together and this renews our home, it gives us more meaning than ever, because desperation brought us together, instead of locking us separately, in each of our own little worlds... he's the blooming wall of my captivity and we're trembling like leaves in front of the future, but our inner world is an eternal harmony that no one will ever steal!
Monday, March 28, 2011
bothering the roses with your soul
My baby is far again, he works in a place he hates instead of doing what he loves.. are we too young to touch our dreams? are we too young to write a song, are we too young to take a beautiful photograph, are we too young to travel the world?...
i've always felt i was born before my time, i've always felt too old for my dreams, but screw it, today i'm dreaming big time, for both of us my baby!
this is how my heart sounds like today:
thinking back on all the sad moments, i see that my heart always conquered everything and many times, it's actually known happiness precisely because of those moments... so no matter what's waiting ahead of me, i'm floating to it with no shield on. i'm vulnerable and scared, as always, but i'm welcoming whatever might come, because it will eventually turn out to be a great thing...
again, this cant be called a serendipity as it is purely an epiphany, and the epiphany from today smells like red colored roses and it tastes like a december sun...
i've always felt i was born before my time, i've always felt too old for my dreams, but screw it, today i'm dreaming big time, for both of us my baby!
this is how my heart sounds like today:
thinking back on all the sad moments, i see that my heart always conquered everything and many times, it's actually known happiness precisely because of those moments... so no matter what's waiting ahead of me, i'm floating to it with no shield on. i'm vulnerable and scared, as always, but i'm welcoming whatever might come, because it will eventually turn out to be a great thing...
again, this cant be called a serendipity as it is purely an epiphany, and the epiphany from today smells like red colored roses and it tastes like a december sun...
Sunday, March 27, 2011
something impossible
my weekend sounded like this:
whatever happened to the great escape, and all the plans we made...
sometimes i see people that remind me of broken pieces, and i started to love broken pieces, but just the ones that cant be mend...
i love their long search for something they'll never find
i love their mistery and their irony
i love their laughter
i imagine how their pillow looks like after they wake up and go to wash the dreams off their faces... all the wrinkles from the pillows... i want to invent a mechanism that would make them liquid, and then inject them in my veins, feed myself with the shadow of what once used to hold their beautiful faces...
so here's another story about a serendipity, but this one never happened for real,still, it could happen anytime, anywhere, as long as i carry the longing in my heart...
whatever happened to the great escape, and all the plans we made...
sometimes i see people that remind me of broken pieces, and i started to love broken pieces, but just the ones that cant be mend...
i love their long search for something they'll never find
i love their mistery and their irony
i love their laughter
i imagine how their pillow looks like after they wake up and go to wash the dreams off their faces... all the wrinkles from the pillows... i want to invent a mechanism that would make them liquid, and then inject them in my veins, feed myself with the shadow of what once used to hold their beautiful faces...
so here's another story about a serendipity, but this one never happened for real,still, it could happen anytime, anywhere, as long as i carry the longing in my heart...
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