god you have forgotten the music i needed you to play ... i send my love to someone else's new...

morning, sous la neige et elle tombe so slowly in this morning that rings like glory. for me....
and i can see that my sister is still listening to this song with the same sadness in the eyes, in the body that i also carry ..
in the same way ..and i could look just like her .. but there is a lot of my friends lately in the story they call winter and already they feel so down, thinking in fading slope, or thinking that maybe it's not so fully worth it to go through and deep into another winter with no arms around her, with no arms around you .. and my arms in the daylight i let go.. stretched like swords, still on their new road, qui conduit a l'epee, so easy i loose certain memories but so sharp the toughts i have in me of the girls for who my love will always be inked in my blood eternally... i can't let go of this wanting to change my body, to change my lost et ces reves a l'oubli... there is a dance we have to study more they teach you how to get ready to die. .. . and all the bodies i saw performing were older and builded so strongly with all the scars and their beauty ... but i want to say something , to show you another body, one that has not lived at all any closer to the mid century. and one to say in every colors so black and every twilight to fall into a dream slowly, a dream i choose to call reality ...

my friend is simple, but will be building castles... a few nights ago she told me what i would swallow and forget to let go...

words to introduce a sacred story , with no lenght i have broken my clock, and i am not planning on any money to replace it anytime before spring comes, before the flavor of death i swallow into me, and this one i will make sure to drink enough of an elixir tea for impurity i fade away and burn it' s memory ... burn it or bury it...

LOVE AND FAITH ENDURES.... THE WORLD PASSES AWAY .. .. . .

credulation pour ton attention. pour toi seul(e)

Another text written a little while ago, on the topics of ....

Words, you know they teach you when you are a kid, not to drink and drive, but i have been into crazy ride where you almost crashes. it's life i refuse to take it for granted so that's why i am a stubborn gentleman when it comes to my creation, and sincerely i would like to apologize because the letter i am about to do is a recital of what i probably said before, i do not wanna sound boring, but when people overlook the writting of a stranger they should based their reactions on mister Miller's best word ever. aware. god yes. and the thoughts of someone so sure of themselves spelling my life's history, the pain and lost or desire i bury into words so people read me. once i remember the first muse as an euphoric state of mind, of life itself turn into the orchestrate perfect death, selon les regles de la dramatique. but in order to write about this feeling it means after short deduction
To the risk of sounding a little logic i say so, you shall learn how to breathe.
The way i do, and i breathe like no one do. emotions better then the rain fall. the pulse of my heart is usually the one to lead my fingertips over the keys. i hit hard, sometimes slowly. always easy to be me, even the pain i have insane strenght and a whole lot of hopes to translate scars becoming epic story. i could just say, hey i miss you , and i'm bored even through missing you but it's o.k. i will let you know then awaits to the sound of my taping foot and nervous mind wanting food, they did a book sounding like that ' food for the soul' or some shit like that, i am not sure.

now , it's late i came back a night o so glorious i danced my way finally standing proud, then i got a little too dense into the love buzz, even when my sweet reason to be aware and alive left to her own dreams. but no worries, i am good, big girl don't die. and i am still a sweet heart, not in the way i could play you . i will give you all there is for now inside for you. Truth.

Truth is i am really protective, not on my lovers but on their absences, i hold on to it, and i give my heart for people to see another kind of story, i am the one to act in this feeling and i react instinctively to protect my story, my loves pregnant i don't remember actually never getting that verdict of a to be born baby.
no it's a surprise each time, and even i wish not to predict, i write and re-invent the past, but to actually believe so sure and place your bet on the future, you have to be crazy. and i am more of the dreamy nature. i dream like we all do but life has showed me how things can crumbles and fall down if you forgot to look sincerely.
the way i write for me is the way i pray, and it comes from le passe meme de mon corps, mon coeur, ma vie qui s'ecrit, i don't always write good, and i truly care not. especially not now, i care about keeping it real in my head, even in the dreams i carry my destiny. et il m'est facile de jouer la comedia del arte for a couple of day . but the pages-drops are starting to be harder for me to surrender, to give myself. it's the way i react towards love, i need to be triggered and moved, not by how sweet you can fucking look at me.. but i want people to push me up against the wall and still the love we share belong to no one and therefore it's not free. my words are the same, i give away a good story as i can but it's for no one else but the beloved, she is able to drive me crazy ,she dress the skies so dark and stars are lascivious images inside my body , they are the essence of my sins and prays
They created the me you have never seen . i am sweet when all i can be is sweet. But tonight my dear even the lover i played t'll i call it over, then i feel rapace, the animals we host are in times when babies are born more guardian of their territory. (and the birth is a fine allegory love to haunt me .

this is when the sweetnest turns into sour.

i have energy, i love to waste time, usually a good way to spend it. waste it.
but lately i have been writing still, but i found no words to display for the eyes of the stranger. i am the one to feel, to be brave, to feel pain, and i know we all do. I also am the one to write about my own death, so nothing "deserve'' to be compare by you. not even by me. when no trust are sent towards the feelings, the ones i doubt, sound, reflect. and what i seek is feelings bona fide. nothing last more then these.
i love warriors and really if for some to redeem in swallow a little lies instead of an absence. of me, never that would have been to easy. then go nuts baby i love to let you as you wish dans ce mensonge de reves. But only a fairy could touch me, undress me. and you are the mirror of a certain reality.. o these words well done. shall we remember how have i entitled this internet delusion of yours. le verre brise. brokenglass, that's it. mes mots qui tranchent si l'on s'approprient leurs voyelles.

But you see in the eyes i let go of no lies, it would be worth not much to me...
last time i really showed you not my heart, but what a heart could be, i remember the story about someone you have no clue how she stands, but you dared to even pretend that maybe i could feel your way, well if really you you craved my life story so bad, you would have been reading more carefully. The words for my prince, and she is there to create fierce envy in me to understand her and more in to respect what she is, or feel. to accept the little loving friendship she accord me.
and i never give up, and indeed my emotions if written by someone else, well they better try at least to give me hell of a reason to believe i should care about their hunger, hungry for intensity, i always repeat this baudelaire quote in my head, a man can live days without food, but cannot go a day without poetry... and we all have sometimes to feel starving like crazy then you loose strength, until you are too weak to even touch the life around you, so you have to pay respect to the piece of art we should work to create it so unique. it should always be, if your life becomes sentenced to death sooner then you had it all planned. enjoy the day, pleasure and luxury, also they all have there own duality , fear and pain and lost. and some day then life is over, and if one dies then i have a feeling only your own feelings in truth will follow you in a place where there could be no bones to hide the stolen dreams. My fantasy had never reflected into your eyes. and it's hard to stay attracted by smoke it become so fast transparence. and i am not that starving right now i have to develop extra energy for the company of many peoples i love. and i am also not craving something even it's mystery is reveal i am motion`free'.
I am scared too and i fear what could become empty i can never hold on forever.
There will always be in variante those shock of pain severe, but my love saved me on time, i will always be loyal and brave for it's feeling to stay alive after all...
i miss you....no you miss the;'' shock you think will move you back to life '' oh
i am telling you i use to be a freak into broken pieces of glass, real vitre, crystaux petit morceaux precieux.... if you are as vigilant you are trying to show me, by more and more to call me so sweet and cute. never forget again i am sleepless and quite studious when
I have to look at someone, i told you i am obsess ... it's always in the details i have found what i am looking for.
O miss you maybe a dream will come true. O god i wish there was music attach to this piece.
Strangely you did tell me you were a pirate soon ago. well pirates are pretty brave and then i notice your bastille. pretending i helped the emprisonment i too perform on my own self. A prison with pure sounds, the only thing so sweet is the music i play so sad but it makes me happy ... makes me want to stay aware because the friends around me i worked strongly to deserve their trust. To lower my expectations, cuz actually the love they give me is unconditional , Sometimes it sounds dischord when they called you sweetie way too soon already.
And my act was never a lie, i have so much in my head, i wanna create, i wanna feel. and your words remembering me how much steady and still easy if you try that hard to do homework then fuck it... i learn fast how agile my hands so dexterous could deliver the knowledges i trust.. the words are tools you can use, they are all yours , but you can never really play or build with them.. my life is a one time play .

prince pour ces journees glaces.

notes au lecteur. ce texte n'est pas d'aujourd'hui mais en rien je ne peu denier que mes sentiments ne seront que mouvements. des tonnes de motset pourtant je garde la plupart de mes lettres sur papier for now. car il y a toujours plus que des mots, il y a ces gens qui me fascinne, qui occupe ma reality d'une facon que je ne changerai jamais . Ma vie a chaque fois qu'elle se transforme en cette saveur si aigre dan sma bouche, je n'arrive guere a oublier l'espoir que je lui doit a cette putain de vie, qui me suit a la trace, cours comme un fou sans aucune destinee ca ne va rien changer, elle te rattrappe sans effort.
mais elle n'est en rien de ce qu ecertains ose decrire comme la chienne de vie, si tu lui soupire respect and trust then suddenly ele va te frapper, surprendre avec ce qui ne vaut aucun plans, j'emmerde l'ideal innaccesibles, meme un homme de genie ne pourrait le creer il vout apparait a un moment ou vous n'y avez meme pas pensez ... so what i say is that i don;t think i am gonna stop living for the winter, au contraire je vais laisser couler les heures en journees, et garder mon coeur a tout pris au chaud. je me fou du soleil qui ne brille pas, et j'attendrai tes visites dans mes reves eveilles..

I am back for a sweet and perfect night in the castle of st-henri. and tonight the boys i adore are indeed away, so it's my dearest miss may and pick-up the gentlemen even i could never be. it's late already but i am awaking finally, after a whole day in front of my lab top it's good to see a new kind of screen.
Two days et des poussieres since mes pensees envers celle que j'ai toujours nomee la bien-aimee sont renversees. i mean nothing i have ever felt for the beloved will ever change, no one neither myself could ever retrace my past and lower the intensity even just the thoughts of her could turned my stomach around and loosing ground. never. i remember how much i believe my heart would ever healed or feel like i could love in growing motions for anyone but her. and she created a lover in me insane and made me believe i could die just to make it last forever. but i would leave what more then a book, and all the hopes i was ever able to tell my friends love is and should be believed in no matter how broken the feeling have been, no matter how lonely the nights would be. i always said i was a criminal in the way i acted with society or the institutions around but tonight after walking into warmth again i lay down and the words slipping out of me sounded strange, unusual still so clear it could only be truth. the kind of truth only i could conceive after the cognizance my heart was not empty, not yet my darling i have been provoked in the sweetest way still right away my love desolated from the closeness i am craving for, the lust i feel already elusive and burning in front of me. smiling for my eyes invited for what could truly become more then just a simple story. i feel secure somehow about what she clearly let me see, a sublime presage of a friendship loyal and devoted. and if i would be someone i can never be it could be as simple as this plans. but in her i began feeling in all identity the beauty that drives me more then crazy, and i have always been surrounded by girls who struggle towards the boy in them. after a time so at-ease in her presence the vision i had in dreams from long ago went by to hit me so hard it was euphoric of a luscious feeling, she was not only an amazing wise and clever girl, in her standing her eyes deep into me i saw the prince that lives in all her identity. no arrogant or fearful feelings, but nonetheless a hell of a crazy warning for me. then you know crushes would crush further then stage likeness, dropping fast into stage 2, wanting followed by the longing, to drop like a wolf's foot fall into fresh ciment, stuck for a time, stage last of the good era of the way i choose to love instead of meeting the probable fuck awaiting each of us in a crowded bar. oh why o why do you think i don't even jerk off. my awakening comes from the wanting, the fondness fever when unforeseen her spell falls on me like pure love i showed her the transparance of my feelings so soon. nothing to do with patience but needing to be honest, to leave only truths of myself. no matter what her verdict could have been i told her the better night end of october, it was so hard to resist i remember her words wanting to hide under the make-up that was my own created alter-ego for all my past, les traits d'un visage qui deviendra le plus fou des amoureux, from times of melancholy, absurdity and a reality i have dreams insane since as long as i can remember, the smoky clown looking so intense created that night made more sense then i could have afforded to see. the character i love fiercely she became in perfect androgynous way. god that night, on the dance floor where she was suppose to make it easy and more friendly, she took my hand to lead me into dancing one with another, and as strange as i sound, i felt like the princess in me never satisfied that night she fell in love with a prince of city, of my nights so lonely after would they be. after my humble prince would return into the softest friend i could have found in the winter i knew i would heal my heart et son coeur a elle aussi. le presage d'un hiver qui n'en saurait pas moins passionee. but you see there is a pleasure and rapture to feel you have to face the madness it creates in the mind of the devoted lover that i could never deny in me .

i have only hopes for you to linger along with me breathing the feeling we could create but from my past i have become strong enough to stay still in to what i trust in me. and i linger to you. only with you my heart would moved easily and slowly dense. profond amour i want you to be pregnant in reality.

saboteur en essai. fictive pour les innocents.

Dare asscefazione… to be addicted. In amoretti.

serenade .pour la muse venale, j'entend toujours sa melodie dans le courant de mes veines, where my love you bleed. i hear the sound you are feeling good even lorsque ton regard only in my dreams appear,
when i dare asked for a dance . something else happens to me ..

Stabbing Darling’s Lullaby

J'entend toujours la melodie aussi claire, in an endless roller coaster, captive in the trolley you threw me into.

If your act unto my heart were sent to trial, it would be damned. Your eyes, your thrusting blade, were never enough to cut me out alone. You had no clue how deadly your love could be. Pull the trigger deep, your eyes loaded bullets you thought you could just shoot through me like a rocket lover. Oblivious you expected me not to react.

I feel comfortable in the prison in which i lay, drowning in a white porcelain bathtub. Gone the perfect smells you adore. Blank water shell, like egg dead and ashes of cigarettes float on top of filthy water, my body in pain goes numb (this is the only sentence qui sonne bizarre. Je sens que le metaphor isn’t used as well as it could be). My eyes predict the rain falling on my silver tongue. Stolen colours and texture of chains to hold my hands away as you wish.

When you grow from a broken boy to a woman, no one dares to read your fortune. They never mention your heart’s rising so high in prayers and feelings for the beloved. Deathless sky poisoned grey, the stars led astray towards fear. The killer in me is a clever shadow. Were you scared i could hurt you? I’m a better hunter when i am indeed the target. The lover is alive but hesitant, older, hurt, by dreams gone lost. I still sound, reflect, hoping to kill the murderer, to leave you behind with the snakes you let crawl on my skin.

I prayed serenely for my love to carry herself away so life could become one piece. Stay brave and resist, the loss you feel already, leaving you forsaken child. Your charming muse in rapture drew a story just for me, an act so grand. A lifetime. They lure and the space beneath my eyes sedates, my bones and my heart in flesh will vanish in dust and lovely colours.

You showed me letters so solid, noir sur blanc. Love leaves its abuser...
No exit in circles infinite ride, where cats go crazy chasing their own tails.
I do have an end, just before the limit, and even though i belong to the sea, it's not going to help me to dry the life left just for me. Even my mother still cares to remind me of the sounds of my heartbeat, screaming in pitch black. She never would have raised me to become my inner murderer.

Il y a le coeur. When it's over then it's over. No such luxury to choose the memory lane. They haunt you even when you are not done the play (ing). Les souvenirs qui m'habitent are the ones in which i am holding you with shivers in my bones. En rouge de sang l’amour becomes its pregnant death. You have left me, leaving that silver bullet, damned love in refusal to die, anchored so solid, a love nest, a lonely-ness inside me. Es una vita. Pour un instant on existe, ensuite il ne reste que des Mots, ton corps n’est plus.

I am going nowhere but i still wanna take you with me.

elixir in dawn...

'' how do you do... about to vanish under blankets soon enough , i need a cigarette... i want a cigarette..
and i want the lights to be quite more absent, in the dark i can see better , clear in my eyes. looking for the perfect answer floathing in my black broken mansion.
you also sound calm, my heart race but i keep calm, its the only way i can act for now. everyday it will be different, love is a stable word, stapling all around each feelings driven through me, and the days are long, even when i do sweet fuckall, i am still a lover.... i could be a killer, and still be a lover.
i actually do adore the drastic movements in which my feeling are sick and beating steady. as long as i follow the moon, she will in the end drop me in water. not so long ago i still had obsession of my past and agreed for she would take me down, away in the history. and then suddenly there was a taste unknown, a flavor i have thought illusions made by the dreams i had even forgot could be . true.. the flavor i called the cure. a long ago. how the fuck i could have not know it existed forsaken me.
For not believing i doubt, but remembered no more. and it fell there for me to see, it wasn't any bright day light, but a low red in shadow all around le verre givre de crystal, a ne pas brise. . and will i be aware, sur mon coeur je n'en ai rien a jurer, c'est ma destinee et mes reves oubliees qui resonne sans plus finir... why .. car rien n'est terminer. the cure is in loyalty, i trust my instinct and they care for love, an act so far from the way certains ont l'impression de jouer, mais seul qui possede cette dansante dualite iront mettre leurs vie in an humble way to the mercy of the love they feel...
and the color of my love is black.... it's every color in me.
et celle qui te vas a merveille, c'est laquelle dis moi .. ''

un noir nouveau, un noir si doux qu'il m'assagit de plus en plus.

end of the purge of my sin is no needed for it's sheer love,
could be sweet in falling deep in dream warm enough to keep the blood circling.

avant . de toi. de moi ... et pensant a elle .

dear marijo, dear my love is falling decay ... for who, not you .
dear reader, if you dare to follow i suggest no. i am getting lost because it's a better idea still then to become another street walker, sleep walking to another party. i said so not so long ago i lookserious at your serious, almost concentrated , you have no clue how i want to look arround and be there fr you .. o vaillant ce que j'aime ce travail, ecrire et aimer. M.Duras me l'a fait comprendre si vite, il m'a fallu un tiers de seconde pour que ces mots deviennent ma destinee.

it's not the even close to the end, when love turns into decay .. . so i can rise up to the slaughter. but then i'll be done with the feelings i adore.. when i will be fed , and gone my body empty. swallow m ewhole, the taste is bitter. i leave you all the bitter tasty memories. no one will ever possess my heart because i am not even done fixing the peices broken.
what are you an hopeful sweet talking liar , no sugar i am in love with the dreams i create. and i am still waiting for her to drug me to teh end with visions untrue.. come on.. i know you can achieve me better then that. go on my love. don't leave my memories still undone, i beged once ago for you not to spare me... allons-y .


''it was nice for me to see you too. in the calm and clear way we did.
it felt good and healing. ''

notes on broken glass; it's a canvas you will break it endlesslyand it's many sharpened peices will reflect the details you forgot to let it be. and it could cut your image in perfcet duality. fragmented replay in light for you to see there is more then one portrait to your identity. you begin and you should try to brake it steady, you need to set . free. even me . we forgot about it. remember if it cuts your skin i suggest you slow down and breathe right in. i can show and act myself onto the next step a little further drowned closer to a limit i wanna taste it in every way. i will break the glasses in between my hands. remember my nails the red so bright it was no luxury, only all i will choose is to swallow the pain.. and show you my love will exist and resist in any of the way you exist .

one day she appeared, and left . obviously . you don't need to remember what day. it could have been a century ago the ink she laid in and all over your mind. is permanent. ca va duree. et encore longtemps. and was she a seductive one. wanting bodies to drown in calore. and slowly in a night learning how touch can be mad .listen to the music only hands can move into. so it's another body... le corps se doit d'etre, and it took me a long ride to realize my mind needed to connect and slowly holding my own hands to show this lust carved inside me, a way to set them free. but the only sin who made me feel truly closer to a heavenly rythms. was to be found lay deep under the surface is your desire. mine and what happened in between each other. you said to me i should trust my taste and the water your toungue melt into my mouth. i never told you that i dreamt you would stay.

the words from you i pasted along today are nothing compare to the story in body shaped format i write.

you live in waves in me and my inside feels wreck sometimes, even if i would try to be solid like metal, you have too much movements dans mon coeur, c'est fatal. il y a des soirs ou j'ai envie que ton souvenir, ton absence m'acheve,
et il y a de ces temps l'ou je me confonds dehors and my eyes remember the feeling i adore when i 'm falling for the eyes of the girl i long really for. she listen. will be loyal. so true an identity i should feel almost blessed. no no not yet. only the feeling i need is to feel like my lips have been shut. only by hers. sometimes it's not the way you wanted it to happen, it really never is.

only there was this one night, another i keep fo rmy haunted dreams. you were looking so deep into my eyes, hungry for words, maybe then i should have been clever and move a little faster . but i became a perfect mix of fears and respect all amoung too much dreams and wanting. so i kept myself standing everytime so close, i could have been surrounded b war o rmurder i could only see you . if one day i am found guilty for feelings, and adore my heart with you i sthe only one i kept free, but i am not a killer, still if i plaid guilty i will follow the sentences i have been doomed i can't stop loving ...
i want to look you in the eyes, i am guiity and torture is so easy. as long as you come visit me. come see me.
you are the only one i would let myself be confined away from the hurt i dare to play heavy creating perfcet songs for me.
i am not always this sweet of a melody... i hear it away the vilain i created inside me . he's scared by you . beauty kills .
i have a feeling no innocence will not really spare me.. you. are loved by water.


''it means a lot to me that your care for me remains so kind and tender. it touches me. ''
les sens perdus rapide, lost yesterday already .. i understand, i don;t even touch myself these days . et y'a tres peu pour m'impressionner.. je vois venir les flocons, et l'hiver n'est en rien une illusion . no one gets away with it.


sp i have way much to say , but i can't focus right now. and the time so early , sober already. drunken love is an old illusion.
i will wait to conclude this text , i feel pretty far from a conclusion . really.

i can go alone

when i write for people. the ones i choose to write then it's as always quite easy to focus.. i also forget easy to focus on what most people do... i still need time to eat, clean. smoke and drink.. tonight the people i like like to party. i like milk. i want cookies and cold freezing milk. and a bed that's not mine, or if it's mine i'll set it on top of the oldest church i can find. and i will not feel bad for anything i am, or anything there is . everybody have there worries, it's a lifetime t. i worry to feel good, it's hard. a lot of people around me crave the feeling called lonely, i want nothing more, but someone to be aware, what the fuck would i do with a teddy bear. seriously . i need sleep but in less then an hour i'll be awake for the time that it takes to write you a letter. i noticed there hasn't been any words for this page in almost 2 days. no one cares for now, there is lazyness, and i will never give up even when my eyes are falling, if what i get is a feeling. i might stay .

mes sens sont les memes seulement leurs fonctions different, but in the end nothing works for me if my heart is not breathing.

if i want to be alone i'll get a license and drive... on a highway, to the sea and i always come back...
seulement ce n'est pas tout de moi qui revient.