icing purple room

i'm here, just by your side...if you would see the look in my eyes then you would know there is nothing scary with me. jami's watching you dream, and you told me the dreams you dive into should be sweeter. but lady i have to tell you none of us are strong enough to control the wishes of morphee. but as we care,i'll still be there when you wake up. i want to hold you, je t'attendrai, et comme la lune brillera, indochine is playing, low but i still fear it's too loud. i slept most of the day you were gone, the cats depressed and i, dreaming,i don't remember my sleep, myself... was i truly awake. am i alive just just now... all that matters is your sleep. and i lay conscience in silence. eyes open , i refuse to reflect only the lights so bright of the computer. i'd rather reflect the purple shadows are white in shines so slow just on the edge. you have darkskin and i also do. we come from a planet playground with giant orange structure to climb on. white sands we walk not. all we do is climb up the....
climb up higher on electrical wire . live forwards the day.

the days i think about you .....

the days i do, everything is still grey..call me dead. hopelessly romantic in lonely lands... i don't wanna clean my home, i chain smoke writing all day, ashes falling all over me..i wanna lay in deep bathtub, drunken me with music as loud as my thinking goes. i know you do not have the green eyes.. but i dream of it anyway. i don't think i am in love . i am thirsty, hungry .. i stand inside on a rock trying to see further, but all i see is colors dead of an autumn falling away. one weekend and you dared to leave me enough fragments to torture me in perfect play, we are sweeter then a crosswords puzzles.. i've found caveman writing about love in language so old i took a night time to recover their feelings... but love is immortal, has been and wil be.. i am not writing a protest but an act of life and i'd kill for it to be
true.

too many days where i hide inside, no fear only too lame to face the cold .. but you know i would run in the snow to see how it feels to see you again. i cannot even send you all the words i know too well talking in love's proses, you want none of this bullshit, you want verses of reality.. and i see fairy dressed in black with bloody eyes, visiting my bed every night i tried to sleep. you belong there, there is far for a broken me... like money have ever stopped me , i know better then that .
too much time inside and i see fog, but i like the word mist ... cloud in my goddamn windows. no skylight.. no more of the moon reflecting in my eyes. no more shooting star only cloud and if they could be black, everything but grey ... soon my eyes i will have to paint them black. do you have a clue how much i wanna run away with you.
where i do not care, i wish you would ask me like no one do these things anymore.. head shots.. and fuck know si am good at that . but i am tired of choosing , even thinking about where to go, where to belong. i belong with someone better then somethings, 25 years with myself, 'es una vita' but they say life goes longer then that. somewhen someone forgot to teach me of individuality, then i learn better of duality, battling my own self is over, i redeem, and no regrets , i still do wrong and i still do good. but i am blase in too many days. what about this eternal coffee, where i could smoke for a quarter life and never choke. i feed myself from th elook in your eyes.. and i breathe low whenever you feel down, and i hold my breath whenever you cry too much, scared of i could dye, you laugh and whisper the tears are over. i smile.

i smile

i still smile.. i do.. you, beautiful ghost to keep me awake even when i, alone needing to hide under layers to keep me warm. but i want cold, my blood is boiling, but reaches my heart , the skin is lacking .. my ears cold.. no wind. waterfall.. inside. but i want it to poor all over the streets i need to go through if i could see you . you are alive. i am too scared of being haunted again to let you go. i won't. if you are scared then i will be too...

SERENADE


by Edgar Allan Poe
(1850)

So sweet the hour, so calm the time,
I feel it more than half a crime,
When Nature sleeps and stars are mute,
To mar the silence ev'n with lute.
At rest on ocean's brilliant dyes
An image of Elysium lies:
Seven Pleiades entranced in Heaven,
Form in the deep another seven:
Endymion nodding from above
Sees in the sea a second love.
Within the valleys dim and brown,
And on the spectral mountain's crown,
The wearied light is dying down,
And earth, and stars, and sea, and sky
Are redolent of sleep, as I
Am redolent of thee and thine
Enthralling love, my Adeline.
But list, O list,- so soft and low
Thy lover's voice tonight shall flow,
That, scarce awake, thy soul shall deem
My words the music of a dream.
Thus, while no single sound too rude
Upon thy slumber shall intrude,
Our thoughts, our souls- O God above!
In every deed shall mingle, love.

serenade is the word i adore.

the night is falling, i listen to many serenade, but i am not ready for my own.

i want to taste the paradise of lost soul, those that fills up the holes. but i have to resist and feel the holes empty... i fear emptyness more then i fear death.
Anais Nin says' i live in a beautiful prison which i can only escape by writing''
i would survive in jail. i am obsess with the images of jail these days, do i feel like a criminal. at 16 yrs old i use to say i wanted to be a serial lover.. therefore love is much more killer then any men could ever harakiri is own self.
love to red, red to the color of blood . bleeding to death. but it is perhaps the wrong color, cuz your life is worthless is you leave it without loving and loving first. then le vent l'emportera, au loin where only heart can see. blind you must be if you forget how little you are . and the ocean could have swallowed you many times. you are none of a survivor, you are forgiven, that's al , that's it for now...

i am aware today
so much i look so serious
when i read you , i smile.
i think it's beautiful
( i know you know )
we study. i am a tender( fragile) subject and you are art i havn't met . yet.
we are unbreakable fragile.

dear friend. i still talk to my ownself.

mornings are late .. the best i can afford right now is to sleep .. until i get to work. and even there it all feels like a big dream.. i would rather be gone far where the dreams have flavours, where you can touch them, where they make you cry , where everything feels a lot more real. i wanna survive instead of just hiding . i wanna struggle with my whole body, instead of thinking and thinking, i want people to take my love because it's to o much for me alone. the music becomes too intense on morning lie this ... i gave a tittle to this text , the words are not for my old friend, the girl i will always love , but the feeling i had just when i awoke was for you . i have been hiding, avoiding to see you , not because i dont mis syou , but because i feel so bad i havnt give you back whatbelongs to you .. i really want to. but i can be a bastard of premium grades when i party , and i burn in flames everything that surrounds me.
now again and again i have 3 weeks to give more money away to the government , for a film i refuse to make right now. Jonathan say it's o.k. i have a whole year. i hate thinking about the years to come. it's not really moving to see myself in here right now, just before all goes into frozen land. after magikal weekend everyting is low. the coffee is true company. and you are still here alone, chain-smoking... you are thinking of moving, but it's only half-making sense. when i look arround i do know i am not the only one, struggling but it feels like i'm seeing without my glasses.
' if i should dye right now, i would not feel , cuz i have never feel completeness. .. (..) i wanna love you t'll the seas are dry. t'll i dye"" this is not from me, but i can feel it anyway . it;s a crazy feeling you get when you search in between all of this human race. when all you want is love and you forget about your ownself...

'i'll be seeing you ' b.h.

night... we don't really know no more when night fall... less sunshine, it suits me for now ...
winter's coming and i feel like it's gonna be l'opposee en entier venu juste pour moi.. l'oppose de l'an dernier ( last winter ) non pas pour me consoler mais pour m'ensorceler. that's all... i know i spended the last summer complaining about all, this city, the people i knew but never saw, my ownself. all. and now there is this thing in the air, i feel emotional but not overwhelm. there is .... you . rain fall. but i am blind, soon i'll be snow fall and we will discover hotter then no one knows... like the kind of sugar , i , can only taste so much without being fed.... i am just realizing, feeling inside that none of the fucking food i ate feeds me more then the vision of you ... and i am starving , left strangly wordless...

now what .. right when i wannawrite more.. i get a call from downstairs .. i'll go .. away but not far ... i have praise inside for the nights i have left awaiting for the day i'll be haunted again

inside playground

''Ordinary life does not interest me. I seek only the high moments. I am in accord with the surrealists, searching for the marvelous.'' Anais Nin .
lately, i could say i do research, i write always but since it is pretty fuking rare i'' receive real letter. it's sweet in my head to write about others. i sended a poem from beaudelaire to this person i really like. she liked the note and the poem, i get excited and happy with certain little thing, that might seem little, but it meant all to me .. all to me for this week in one half-page.. sending this message was my kind a gambling in an honest way, you send a part of you , you try to choose the good one, the one where the answers comes back to you, play the cards , but play'em well. pretend just to see that you havn't forgot how to play good... tonight is gonna last forever, i fear it .. but apparently fear is good sometimes... so i'll let it be .
i dream i could just knock out and be sleeping already . but i am bad at this game.