I will not be just a tourist in the world of images, just watching images passing by which I cannot live in, make love to, possess as permanent sources of joy and ecstasy~
anais nin
Among the seemingly endless nights absorbing into each other a particolored painting of eight years~the continuous story of love come and gone...disasters painted with the back drop of something beautiful...spectators who come and go...sometimes it is well documented sometimes the words escaped me for those times...my heart has closed in the most peculiar way~closed down the partitions...I watch sunsets come and go...people have more babies, break up, make up...I root myself in the strangeness of being alone...waiting for someone to drop me down to my knees, to leave me numb and speechless and drunk with their presence. to understand the dryness of my wit, and the sharpness of my tongue, and softness of my skin. the love I have for beautiful words. I wait I wait i wait......

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