Take a knife. Make sure that's well-sharpened. Cut my soul in two and wait quietly to see what it's filled with. In the beginning, you'll observe the sea with the cloudy waves of melancholy. You'll see the sun. A scorching sun. And you're going to feel a gentle breeze of the wind. (it likes to walk through my soul). Cut a little bit more to see how many waves of laughter step out, but be careful to not spill 'em. (they're therapy for my various disappointments) Not to forget. You will see some failures. Ignore them. Someday I'll fix them. Cut a bit deeper and you'll find dreams which I still have, and also desires and fantasies… (I've to mention I got a special affinity with them) After that, I'd like you to look carefully at the top. Right there is happiness. Do you recognize it? I'm Human. I'm a lot of stuff each day of the week. I have about everything in this soul of mine, but I'm not afraid of the bullet's wound that spli

Did I bother you? I wanna tell you something, — In fact, I'd like to know what's my chance of meeting you at the hour of existence? Do you hear me? I'll wait until the hour of infinity when I'll suppose that you have forgotten that nothing was delayed. I'll wait for you in the cosmos... on a sofa. You may wait for an answer which I don't know it as well as you do about it. I tried my luck with the last dime, — I'm gonna wait for you until... — but firstly, «can you swear I mean... nothin' to ya»

in music, I found a refuge managing sneaking myself in the space amid the notes …to let behind lonelyness

I embodied you in another creature reincarnated not from a fairy spirit but gifted to direct you at a stage of a futuristic idea felt in a sloe gin able like a vermin to eat your pain, a pain found in any soul, at a time...

 ❝ Had I've got the heaven's embroidered cloths enwrought with golden and silver light? Had I've got the blue and the dim and the dark cloths of night and light and the half-light? Cause if I'd have, I would spread the clothes under your feet... but I, being poor, have only my dreams; I have spread my dreams under your feet; tread softly because you tread on my dreams. ❞

in a very trying rookie season, like a child in time at a superior state of awakening you've begun to wonder if every time you dreamed, you weren't actually more awake while with every awakening, you slipped to a world with a lack of dimensions, dimensions of imagination incited by a love spell

very early in the morning, the sky whispered to me, — a magical day, my sunrise... and I answered back, — wham bam, shanalala-la… with my flew mind to you thinking that in one day, — [a very, very, common day], we'll meet for the first time and we'll go to make love as rough as if we've known each other in another life... ✴ ❝  and I will plead no contest if loving you's a crime, so go on and find me guilty,  just one more frenglishly time  ❞ ✴

nested between spaces of my words, sits in pause, the level of the #9 dream one time is like a standing sentinel, another time is like a lone snowman in all moods is to stir the reader's mind kissed by the whisperer of my visions

(any city begins with a train station and ends up with thousands trains to anywhere...), (in the station it hears a gentle whisper), — …you, there, where do you want to go… …to which of your dreams… …is this train your destination… …would you want someone like me to accompany you…

if your mind and intuitions are provoked, if the blood trembles through your veins, if stormy passions get you back to life, if your principles are sliced while you are an addicted without even knowing why, if so-so perturbed, you want to cast away to not see any more ghosts but only to fly without wings, convinced you'll be caught by some invisible arms in your free-falling, if a new sentiment appears as if the one you were once is resurrected in someone you'd want to be, to feel beyond palpable, it's because you met with a charming one, one able to switch you, – music's mystery

there… where you are too afraid to get in… there is hidden the treasure you sought… will not coming home to you but will wait somewhere in the blue wing of the moon it'll stalk you if you give your soul to those who promised you the magic of paradise in lieu of one who'll follow you even in hell so be vigilant, — this, it isn't my confession but your frisson plotted exactly as hell was made in heaven