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 .