… the sun could never make up for all these stars.

I crave for a summer night and the cool wind by the ocean, and the sound of the waves crashing and crashing…

something in between Dada and Surrealism and nothing at all… based on a thought I had the other day that if there was a millisecond when we were all asleep, maybe the world would cease to exist…

this doesn’t have to be true

and it doesn’t matter if it is(n’t)

you see, i can only go two ways.

i have walked both of them, or none at all, i am not sure.

because if they each seem to lead nowhere, there is no evidence to prove that this is not a circle. so i might just be walking endlessly towards myself, and nothing else.

The sky and the sand melt away with the feeling that this moment is eternal; and has endured through all stages of this Earth. (…) To know that, and to know that my soul will wander through these sands and stars, is what makes this landscape so beautiful.

It’s June again and you’ve been dead for three years now and yet I find myself thinking of you. You, that brought so much light and colour to my life, and left me so quickly.

There is no end because there is no beginning.

Before the womb there was the woman, and before the woman there was the womb.

I was born and I will die, but my spirit will haunt this earth. 

if i could just/return to the womb

and be there/eternally

in the/young smile

in my mom’s photograph

I once closed my eyes, expecting to find darkness and silence, a place undisturbed by the world outside. However the darkness never came, and in the closing of my eyes I felt a thing unfurl from inside of me…

My hands would dance

in the air, swooning for the Moon,

so near, at my side

i am everywhere but in myself

it’s possible to find pieces of me lying around

And so, the conclusion I came on, after a few hours awake (I now recall), was that maybe I have always been there. I think I was born in that blue and endless space.

just some really random poem I wrote about my strawberry-chocolate pie in a cafe waiting for my love to arrive…

I try to sleep, but it’s useless. I can’t sleep with the world screaming and whispering in my ears.

there is something that have always lived within me, and that is the need to read and to write.

the tears may be clear but I know they are actually blood

disguised as something pure and beautiful when in reality I cry in red

We stand (as always) in the shore of things, in the shore of truth.

we must let them keep their secret, must let them keep their treasures and their knowledge that none of us will never posses.

what is that thing that eat us inside out?

Can it be that we all have the same disease?

the wind numbs your senses

you hear only the sea and the wind

there’s nothing else

but wait, yes, there is the girl