January 2012
1 post
-17°C interior
Sometimes, somehow suddenly. This nugget of melancholy pops out and colors an hour, a day. Maybe even a whole week. Under pressure of innocent spirituality - in the blue I capitulate. I surrender with the primal desire to never fight again for the side that always wins the war. War without a single drop of spilled blood. Just open wound leaking pus. Golden pus.
I need to fall.
December 2011
4 posts
▲ ▲ ▲ n
Water and dust ▲ Happy Valentin’s Day ▲ Did you think I’d leave you here forever ▲ I like you better than Franco ▲ When it rains, it pours ▲ You look good in everything ▲ Hope meeting the president was a memorable moment ▲ Hope you are sleeping well while your beard grows ▲ Your beauty is full to the bones ▲ Today is my birthday ▲ Good night sweet prince ▲ You notice I am trying to...
Jacktalk
A: Are you OK? B: No. A: What happened? B: I had a near death experience. A: Oh… Did you see God? Is she mad at me? B: No. I guess I wasn’t that close. A: Than I wouldn’t call it a near death experience. B: Why are you so sure that we will see God once we die. A: I just know. B: You know too much. A: You die too often.
Garden of Eden
“It is really OK to just roll: You know it’s really OK to just roll with it and I’m just happy to have you in my life. You know… Regardless. To know you and be your friend. But I’m also… My subjective mind or my… in-objective mind… Just like, just wants to… I don’t know… I don’t know… Be with you. I don’t...
revisited diary
Tender snow storm keeps on announcing. Witnessing pleasant waiting. Several notes displayed on several screens. (Did you know if you flip ME you can get WE?) Stable lights of insecure whites. We are testing. Testing indeed. Final members keep on appearing as we define our cast. Our menu is rich. Fresh & brand new ingredients to be served next Tuesday from 20:00 to 23:30. It’s possible that...
November 2011
3 posts
ZEAL
“What if you can’t write any more?” - Eager need. My middle muscle pulsing regularly. Staring at the phone waiting for a miracle to appear. Once it did appear. When they were writing my history they left out broken heart period for the year 2011. I need to train my fingertips. More aluminum, less cream. “Bugger! With you it’s like decoding, so damn cryptic” - I...
September 2011
1 post
AST (good night note)
I should dive in 100% cotton while my naked skin whispers melancholy of a possible touch.
May 2011
4 posts
I have hard times with titteling things
WIRELESS FEELINGS are MANAGING YOUR PRIVACY in the SETTINGS OF THE SOLITUDE. I’m PROCESSING A LIE while VERIFYING YOUR SKIN in LIMITED STORAGE YOU ARE PERMITTED TO MY ACCESS so therefore LOAD ME I’m DOWNLOADING MY BEHAVIOR DESIRE OF SHARING is OFF so you can ALLOW USERS TO KNOW ME SET UP NEW HEART DEVICE and DISABLE AUTOMATIC KINDNESS Than you can LOG OUT AFTER COMPASSION DRAG...
Chatty Tale
Hey there, what’s up? Leaves an auto replay: Away. Several long minutes later: Oh 1 sec. The pleasure of waiting and being waited for. Not much. Browsing around the familiarities of strangers. Seeking for help. How about u? A lazy respond as Same here can cause an acceleration of the particular event. Today that is not a case. Have you been OK lately? seems more generous and my fingertips...
White Heaven
Observing the duration of silence while drowning you in my own chest. Two layers of skin. There you are. Hiding the inevitable. Silence stops before cystic decisions. Delineates a circle around its own axis. A view to the left, a view to the right. My feet are guided in the whiteness of the opportunities. I am choosing myself in order to return. Hold your strings steadily and print each step...
April 2011
6 posts
When the guilt arrives and lands on your chest...
Happy Birthday
I wish you all the success with everything that you touch. (papers, textile, objects, cameras, humans, lips, hands…)
Small Talk
:Have u ever seen the first episode of Six feet under?
:No.
:Woman & a man meet on the airplane. They exit the gate and before they say goodbye they exchange exchange some physicality in the cleaning storage room at the airport. While they have sex, the father of the man is dying. He had a car accident while he was going to pick up his son at the airport.
:It happened to me.
:Your father...
My other photo TRAVELOGUE blog LOW LANDSCAPES can...
http://lowlandscapes.tumblr.com/
March 2011
1 post
I had to witness several hahaha's and honest...
Deprived from a thing called desire I looked at those eastern eyes and felt logique.
February 2011
1 post
January 2011
6 posts
Fade out
I want to fade us out while the letters get lost in distant zones. No need for further talk when each random fact pins the heart. No further replay needed. We accomplished what we could, what we were best at and now that a longing memory has come to an end, now that you are covered in snow haunting friendship I surrender to a final bow. It wasn’t you and me in the finals.
I shall turn the lights...
Before the answer
“Go to bed it is already late.” he said. “Take me to bed.” she answered.
Next morning covered with bad breath and small eyes she asked a question:
“Will you still like me in 2011?”
While Holding Hands In The Cab
We rewinded words millions of times neglecting the touch. “It’s all good” I kept on saying while comforting stiches and blowing my mind out. We didn’t reach an agreement but we did offer an opening. Those calm souls covered in snow. Singing spirts and swans. We were both good in words with no words in between. Few horrible good-byes and a so called airport hug. I shall miss...
Thank you as if you did. (but you didn't)
While you read
Most of the time when you read my lines I am in bed, in a deep sleep. Hugging confidence knowing that I can rest in your eyes.
01.01.2011.
2011. 2012. 2017. April 2019. December 2019. Leap year 2020. 2046. 2072. My funeral. Some tears. And a beautiful mausoleum. I make for you My husband. My husband. Good evening. Good year. No more words to say but 2073.
December 2010
5 posts
A Heartbroken stone
“Cut the desire and tell me what you want!” He hugged those words while looking at his dog sleeping on his bed. His bed covered in stains of recent, abandoned gold that Mrs. Time will wash. In the night of shifted timings he discovered uncommon beauty of predictive landscape and the color Adriatic Blue. He opened his ears like no one does these days, and he listened. I truly hope he...
"But you are born for something else. You're a...
“Can I frame your last sentence and put it on my wall?”
“Please do.”
MASKING
When I was a child I used to cover my dirty face with my small hands to protect myself from seeing. Few nights ago I covered my face again. It took me a while to recognize the fact that I was hiding. I was counting exactly till seven millions before I was found. I tend to put a mask on few times a year. I avoid February. The act of self reflection and the treasure of disappearance . Unsuccessful....
Time zone
The first thing I see in the morning are letters from the other side of the ocean.
November 2010
12 posts
16 words
Today I won’t write. I will only bless you. Especially your hope. I bless your hope.
G like Good
Your words offer daily comfort (when I seek for them). The concept of your unconditional love is old and known yet hard to accept and witness. I am brand new in my needs and desires and with childish language I stand in front of you asking for continuous kissing. You do ask me for intimacy, you do attract immensely although you know my story. I shaped it with you since 1982. I look for your will...
Add a Text Post
Needing Hots
Tending Shoe
Thinned Egos
Edge Hints On
Denies Thong Needing Host
Need Sight On
Seed Nothing
Sighted Neon
Ending She To
Need Hosting
Sighted None
Ghosted Nine
Deign Honest
Hide Ten Song
Ending Ethos
Send Ego Hint
Case thinking
There is this music that keeps on repeating constantly. It plays over and over again. But it has a different tune tonight. It certainly does. It sounds closer and familiar. I’ve reached a number that doesn’t fulfill me. I see those new pages being written. I see the old skin being renewed. By distance. By calling. I wake up and I wonder. Wondering about paths and ways about miles and...
The next best disabled thing.
It’s been a (dry) year now since she said: I would do something else if I was you. (She wasn’t me and she wasn’t alert) I remember seeing tears dripping on the floor while I was laying on a table with my head in a hole. I wasn’t humiliated only sad. Sad for my lovely-lonely bones, for my (still young) structure not being able to support me.
The pain was inevitable. ...
Lousy Sheppard
You gave me an introduction to a relationship. You slipped your fictitious limbs all over my dry skin. Hard to grasp easy to taste. I would’ve closed the doors and lived that one day. I told you I was religious but my faith is weak. I still want to be here tomorrow guided by unconditional love imitating Christianity in your eyes.
Stumbling upon the Nordic desire.
She clapped her hands. Twice. Nobody arrived. Morning was already leaning towards afternoon. Another clap. The house filled with silence. Dust dancing in front of her eyes. The abundance of monarchy.
“My horses are blind and ill. My kingdom is sad.” (Go and rescue her. Her and her wise dog.)
AUTOMATICALLY removed
I took you to the forest. In the dry nights our spirits hunting the impossible. You understood my words as if they were yours. I delivered several kisses and placed them on top of your broken lips. My pleasure was shaking. My owls were awake.
September 2010
3 posts
My Lord be with me.
He sang “I’ve been touched, I’ve been touched and it’s too much it’s too much” There are this moments only moments where I feel that all my dreams came true. It’s a moment. Twinkling of an eye.
Still negotiating a match in the corner of their...
Our check-in started before our bags were even packed. The celebratory mood was gone. Another trip to be done. Another opening of a door, another disability of closing the same one. Feelings wrapped in cellophane with no certain destination. “You did not exceed the weight but do you carry anything that could hurt someone” “No, I’ve done that before packing” We have...
August 2010
4 posts
Be mad about me
In the night of shooting stars an 8 year old whispered the methods of becoming an adult.
The length of my ties stole his look, while my feet were not even worth mentioning.
I took a pen. I was right about the childhood need to express the laudness of my kisses. I witnessed a silent handwriting warmed by sun. Heated by August.
A summer with no decision to make.
Talking heads under the table
Warming hearts of unfolded hands. Touched once or twice under and above that working table. Hidden lips across the dancing auditorium. I wanna die for you prince said and we both knew that this might be the place. And the truth is if I floor you again I will make sure I am laying down first so you land on me with your pen in your hand writing silent history.