Look, October 15, 2006

Look at me… I’m longing for expression, I have a world inside ready to burst out, made of skulls and stars, black hearts and hot blood

This is my body, but it is not me, this is my voice, but it is not me, these are my words, my writings, my paintings and my creatures, but it is not me…

Look at me, or better look at it, but don’t wear it off with your eyes, don’t smudge it with your unworthy hands, I’m very jealous of it, it lives through me and me through it…

I can grant to be alive, to have something here inside, I thought I’d forgotten how to do it, I thought I wasn’t able anymore… it’s a bond as fragile as dangerous

But I’m not playing, and maybe that’s why I’m alone, laugh, put up your walls, you’re no better than I am after all… and on your own you won’t survive… but one day I’m going to smash that wall

Tear the voice away from the one outing it

I should consider why I melt down in the less appropriate moments, I should think about these temporary oblivions…
But I’m stuck, I don’t want to face my darkest part, I suppose I’d die in the confrontation, but this time I don’t know if I’d have the strength to start again…
(so what do you have got to loose?)
I loose before I find

Walking in the fog I thought of those who never saw it, of those who think it’s impossible to live with what we call a light mist, of those ho can’t even thing of fog as I mean it… where you can’t even see your feet, where you can’t hear sounds no more… I made a test, it told me I’m gonna die suicide… suicide by disappearing… I’ll start walking in the fog, sliding through it like a cat… will it feel like falling asleep? In a dreamless sleep…

without illusions… let’s burn the maya veil, please please please…

destiny, faith…

is this the mean drop that breaks it, or are these cruel and humorless jokes?

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