sesame street come deliver me ..

why o why , because i am in hell. today is actually an exception, after wandering in a cafe i know already too much. i left on my bike, awoke at 7 in the morning to go to work, never went.... once my head wants his freedom even my body gets afraid of the work, all i'll ever remember . how to ride. but this city drives me crazy too many road empty full of monkey to go through .. and trust me i am not in a social mode, i ride past the same streets and nowhere to stop, for food maybe. and for alcohol, but lately i have been some kind of an angel, maybe the devil only resting until i fall back into my playground. my love. montreal is a city. i am obsess with this city. but the girls are still hunting .. the only nightmare i can watch and sleep with, a fairytale that never last or one your mother told you ages ago in her last bed that you would sleep forced by with no dreams to remember. they comes inside and it feels like a storm with no rain. i am becoming suspicious of my own feeling.. last note i wrote to . you . i send you my love and if you don't fucking want it just trow it off the window and let it breath . don't let me suffocate . i belong free and i tought you know it .. i tought it was clearly printed in the look in my eyes. but i loved those night my body trapped sweetly under yours. and o a pleasure to give myself to you . you had no clue and it's o.k. your innocence wins, i let go of too much , before you even asked for, i was learning to slow down, and your absence came to meet me before one last kiss. before once last night melting by your side. i knew from the begining that i was leaving, i've had crazy ride roller coaster into obsessive feelings, the feel it will drown you flying from the inside , a high better then any drugs you can take. but we are slow lover, and proper friends, btu it's toronto for fuck sake. even friends are nothing like the hearts i know in montreal... this morning a friend of mine wearing the best hat ever.. loosen up toronto . si si i agree.
i need you to know i hold not even rage , not even deception or angry toughts towards you , the gentle me understood a lot more then you would see, because we all believe our silences are that crystal clear, but i told you i cry in crystal i know how to read, and i am more aware then all i can talk in a day . it's only the obsessive me that wanted you a little more, just a little more. what can i say i ache for affection, and i act pretty crazy on the feelings that are slowly pushed away, not forgotten just away . away .

it's o.k. i came here to this city to go away . again. and i am actually running, not away from me , but from the streets of this city before they make me so sarcastic even on a sunny day , i am my own company and i need to lay off the schedule, i am too old to work like that for you and you and you , i builded fence an deven my boss who think she is creating, straigth from a catalogue . i work for art . and my friends..

words, i need them. there formality, the way they explain what's missing in me .
my words of the week.
pas·sion
–noun 1. any powerful or compelling emotion or feeling, as love or hate.
2. strong amorous feeling or desire; love; ardor.
3. strong sexual desire; lust.
4. an instance or experience of strong love or sexual desire.
5. a person toward whom one feels strong love or sexual desire.
6. a strong or extravagant fondness, enthusiasm, or desire for anything: a passion for music.
7. the object of such a fondness or desire: Accuracy became a passion with him.
8. an outburst of strong emotion or feeling: He suddenly broke into a passion of bitter words.

yeah from what i feel or all those time with the people i see, i get lonely and remember how this feelings draw me alive, but feelings are nothing you can buy in the liquor store.

fragment, the subject might chahge , i ran in order to buy my special limonade, scotch. all of last week it tasted bad into my throat , too strong, or too much , or i was sad enough with a smile on my face , becoming like all the kids out here, i'd rather cry an drink it all, but i don't need to cry, there is a difference with a broken heart then bored eyes watching the day light . turns into much of a disaster when you wanna hide because you have been riding all the way on queens's street on a friday night, i get claustrophobic, but i never was..

there is no need to waste the keyboard telling you about the last weeks . i am o.k. now. just now. in the house we complain about the smell of smoke but imagine if we ciouldn't lit up smoke after smoke. we would all hate the smell of sweet sweet pie. no sugar it ain't really what we need.

you see . someone told me they would read that blog, so there is no need of me to censure these words, actually i had no intention to talk about you , not because i want not, more because life's force of animal told me in quiet whispers that i should keep more inside me, and lest for the other, but you know i am a pretty bright one but still it takes more then a week to recover from drug use and abuse, so who knows i might loose the feeling somewhere inside the brain where it floats in harmony . still there is always good chances it might end up in a cave somewhere no light .. still don't get me wrong what i feel is always heavy in a good way . nothing easily overwhelms me . especially the heart , don't always falls in love . this time i feel calm about it with you , i wouldn't unless you would drag me there with you , but there aint no way i am falling alone.. it's like diving , and i am the ocan this time, but they'll tell you ...never you should dive alone, the deeper the more danger you'll be feeling all inside you. i love the scene i am left here, i'm glad i stayed, you havn't got bored of me yet , so lady should i really think of me as lucky. there is three o lady there just behind me , i am listening to heavy perfect music, and i love the echoes in the back of my head, women's voices intertwined together. i just had a falligng tought inside me, of you , and only you walking towards the kitchen or you room, and i follow , because i don't feel bad hypnotize, it's not your body that drags me away from the notes i hit crazy , i wish it could go faster . it's the way we moved on that night we were drugged children wanting human calor the way kids wants to play where they have been told not too.
i wonder how crazier sober it could be , the softnest in slow motion can be insne, not your head anymore spinning but your senses, ...

later. my body is warm, land away from cold, a little tired, a lot actually , i need to dive, or a hard rain falling on me , i would drag you out there just you stand there with me in the rain until we get soaked. soaked.
i am lost into my own tought, i could or should rather not feel but i am sorry i learn too strong never to be cold to my impulsiveness. i feel, and at last i will always be able to lay it on words. and i will stay sit still on that chair, heat risibng , when i wanna do like the boys do al teh time, i wear no shirt , i remember how perfect it feels someone's hands on my stomach , i feel like the person i created so real under the surface of what you really can see. androgyne more even then the way i look . there is so much eyes in one room looking all over, we could almost play frenesie and that would be o.k. but i will not look at you , not just now. i want a straight fall into darkness, only because my eyes are shut down by your lips. but i knopw exactly how to dream awake i told you so .
my muscle are getting numb from the alcohol.. i wanna lay head under water for the whole week until i feel rebirth of the rider that i'll always be like an animal left back into the right jungle . i am an animal. there is no lie. i am hunting in a desert land of a city look into me you will see i have it inked into my skin the only where there is no lies..

don't lie, and i will not .. and the world outide that stand like a fake picture moving unsteady in a rhytmn to make no sense i'm sorry i have better expectations, we will see and stay still like perfect moment pregnant.

i will stop the words there is always more. but i stop my hands so many times through one letter i am lost in my own rythmn and i want nothing like this, still i have wishes to hear you , see you . crazy . like no one else tells me , there is words you can describe in a formal book, but crazy is a way to be , amd no one act the same. you are nothing like the same. nothing like it ...

more. w.o.r.d.s... i had feeling someone would read, next time i'll be writing on my own , and i will deliver letter to the cat he will be a fine messanger..