Sunday, October 14, 2012

Nowhere to be found

This is our city.
The concrete moon illuminates our deepest scars.
And the stars, each one shines bright for every love that was in vain.

I walk these seemingly empty roads.
A short story is all I’m left with.

“There once was a boy whose age was eleven,
who once got a taste and he thought it was heaven.

That boy got greedy; young as he was, he got flattered.
He fell off his cloud, his mind then just scattered.

There once was a girl that swallowed the pieces
forever she cried for the boy that she misses”

The story ends. The roads remain empty. I go home.

Monday, October 8, 2012

Like I swallowed half my stash

Credits go to:

       A friend of mine calls it writer's block. Even if I did consider myself a writer, this seems to be something way bigger than writing. It's a general block.
       I feel sad. A different kind of sad. I feel detuned actually (not sure if I'm using this world correctly, I used google translate [not trustworthy I know, but I'm not a dictionary person, sorry]
{actually no, I'm not sorry} {{talking to myself agaaaaiiiiin}}).
       I want you to love me forever. That makes me demanding. I say it all the time. That makes me weird. I actually expect you to do so. That is what makes me crazy.
I don't know how to continue this text. Someone's been stealing my water lately
(also makes me sound crazy).

I promise to love you forever. Even when I hate you.
I'll just keep talking to the camera until you get back.