Tuesday, 30 June 2009
Monday, 22 June 2009
that come to compare themselves
with the present.
You are always on my mind.
My sister, my friend, my everlasting mother.
I cannot hide who I am.
My thoughts are surrounded
that cut deep into the dark area,
hidden by fear.
I miss you, but can I still trust you?
There's a thurmoil, now and then,
Stormy weather rises, sometimes.
Can I always count
with you for protection?
Somedy told me
you aren't there anymore,
where I thought you'd always be.
I hope I didn't push you too hard.
I hope you'll find your way back home.
When it reaches me,
I'll be asleep.
Frozen, in my bed, waiting.
Friday, 19 June 2009
Have you ever wondered why our planet is called Earth, especially when its constituency is of 70% of water and it is frequently referred to as the blue planet?
Because we are the ones inhabiting the portions of earth on this globe?
I guess it's all an attempt of turning humans into the center of the universe, as always, we tell ourselves that we're the most important thing, the only thing, capable of thought and intelligence, the only thing worth saving in this planet.
All, to tell ourselves that we're not alone, convince ourselves, even when your whole family just died, there's someone who comes and tells you that "you are not left alone", because, supposedly, that someone, a fucking stranger, can relate to you in that moment of total loss, just because he is another freaking human inhabiting the same portion of land in this planet called Earth.
And, yet, we take it for granted. We destroy it. We're like a tourist that abuses and spoils everything, when on holidays, on a foreign country. We don't respect it, we don't relate to it at all, we despise it and its needs.
We're just children of destruction and damnation. And Earth is our playground.
I'm gonna get me a pet and leave him out
I'm gonna make a family and scream and shout
I'm gonna have a child and let him bloat
Escape is always the safest path
For a dissident who's got no keg
To hide away in
When all abandon him
No religion, or country can define me
I'm the lover of nihilism
The true liver of unexpectedness
And there's no cure for me
Monday, 8 June 2009
Friday, 5 June 2009
I will always be fond of blue light.
What shall I do now, that birds aren’t flying anymore? Wasted too much time, and yet there was no time to be wasted somehow. I have no fucking face. Look so thin, skinny. Hate it, myself.
My face is converging to the floor. Big shit. Look like shit. My body is weak and my body is sick. Don’t want to get out, don’t want to stay at home.
All an illusion of being real.