You are beautiful like demolition. Just the thought of you draws my knuckles white. I don’t need a god. I have you and your beautiful mouth, your hands holding onto me, the nails leaving unfelt wounds, your hot breath on my neck. The taste of your saliva. The darkness is ours. The nights belong to us. Everything we do is secret. Nothing we do will ever be understood; we will be feared and kept well away from. It will be the stuff of legend, endless discussion and limitless inspiration for the brave of heart. It’s you and me in this room, on this floor. Beyond life, beyond morality. We are gleaming animals painted in moonlit sweat glow. Our eyes turn to jewels and everything we do is an example of spontaneous perfection. I have been waiting all my life to be with you. My heart slams against my ribs when I think of the slaughtered nights I spent all over the world waiting to feel your touch. The time I annihilated while I waited like a man doing a life sentence. Now you’re here and everything we touch explodes, bursts into bloom or burns to ash. History atomizes and negates itself with our every shared breath. I need you like life needs life. I want you bad like a natural disaster. You are all I see. You are the only one I want to know.

— Henry Rollins

No one ever thought, we could touch the sky.

Not even you.

Not even me.

Everytime we talk I fall a little harder

"It's impossible" said pride.

"It's risky" said experience. 

"It's pointless" said reason. 

"Give it a try" whispered the heart.

Key

I will only, let you down.

But my door, is always open. Well I don't think, that I ever loved you. But the world is dying to meet you. Oh black birds they sing off the mountains. Joyous love songs that drift through the houses. But now I'm free, now i'm free, now i'm free from all your pain. Yeah I love with my heart and I hold it in my hands, but you know, my heart's not yours.

And this, our life, exempt from public haunt, finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, sermons in stones, 

and 

GOOD in everything.

Happy Birthday!

It could be worse

Be my friend 
Hold me, wrap me up 

Unfold me, I am small
I'm needy ,Warm me up 

And breathe me 

The perfect Sunday.
- A cup of hot chocolate and cookies. 
- A good clasic film, of those which I like to watch by your side.


Breakfast at Tiffany's  Casablanca    Roman Holiday 
   Love affair       Golden Helmet       Gone with the Wind 


- And a warm quilt which shields us from the terrible winter chills.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

I'm really freaking out.After all this time, everything has changed. Now I finally feel that I have reached an equilibrium. I feel so good. And it is without you. So please stop trying to do what you're trying to do. I'm not a fool, I'm not going to fall in your trap again. What do you want me do? To leave everything for you? Return to that stupid unhappy place. Forget it. I can't, I lost you, and I know it was my fault, but I told you once and I can tell you as many times as you want: I'M OVER YOU! So please go away from me. I don't want you. No more. Never.

What the fuck is wrong with you?

One nail drives out another

Sometimes I wish this was just another story of a boy meets a girl.Without your past. Without mine.

But I can't pretend you to stop loving her, when I haven't even stopped loving him.

And this feeling of impossibility grows bigger, and the fear of being unable to occupy her place is becoming more real. 

But who knows, if we had never hated each other, if we had never discussed, if I could bear you at all, perhaps none of this had happened.

This could be paradise.