
Waiting for death is like reading a book wherein the story never seems to end but you feel the book getting heavier on one side

Waiting for death is like reading a book wherein the story never seems to end but you feel the book getting heavier on one side

What you create today
that captures today
has the potential to be admired
in two hundred years

I still remember running to the last tree on the street it was the autumn of my youth still young I saw no other trees then these lining the street not far from where you were

Standing on your pedestal acting your wisdom believable the mirror at night alone avoided

We get born empty slowly filed by what overflows in others and then we see one day ourselves imagined in our mind

In life we sometimes follow someone
while they were following us
that is not so special
the moment you find out
that is special

I just heard that they say that we are all different whereafter I thought yeah but there is still more of the same in all of us

Memories sometimes rush into me carried by a smell a glance a word today one rushed forwards helped by a movement an old tool I saw its movement I remember it it was from the days when I played played on the floor fantasy worlds with plastic toys I saw it there it was in my mind I do remember when I think about it I have many memories of things things that happened in my fantasy maybe I spend most of my time there I don’t remember

One of my memories from when I was young was that I liked to go to the last wagon on the train and look through the window at the track passing by from underneath my feet and seeing it disappear in the distance on the rhythm of all the sounds like the track history seems to end also in a point far way but in silence

In light of the moon and earths tilt we think

You hold me close with your sharp claws and I love you for it even the closeness

My young thought peaked over the side thinking she could fly the depth scared but the wings felt real climbing on the side she reflected in her mother's eyes the colors of her wings were there it was not the last thing she saw but for sure the only thing that mattered

I walked around the obstacle as if to find a solution but I only found a problem

We often look at our own nature in awe from behind a glass barrier because we still want to step away ignore and look back at its howl

Today I was thinking I thought in one direction till I came across a thought coming from the left and a little later one on the next lane speeding towards me I thought I still knew what I was thinking but then another turned around and I remembered that I didn't

When your idols are burned out and only hang on the walls of your childhood you can finally look in the mirror and see someone you want to know