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beginners should be elastic

When Sophie told me she and I were more than ancient history there is this quite a while, it made me a little trouble. Too many tears have been shed, too, amplifying the inside for the show that I was accustomed to give. Show rather than conceal, all except anger. It is the only emotion that I still can not live at full intensity. Everything is always diluted by a reason, a motivation. It is probably this love of imperfections that prevent me from wishing for eternity to anyone.

short, I believe she once said, sitting on my sofa. Another time when standing up after the door handle. And one last before closing our eyes to a few weeks of attendance. She probably wanted I shall keep it, but I did nothing. She could conclude that the text message too long explaining to me why time is subjective and that I am better to give attention to the bed than in real life. She preferred a series of dead ends which I have not deigned to come out.

Sometimes when I spend my Saturday nights to listen to TV shows confused because I'm too broke to do anything else, I miss her. I miss his kisses and his complaints about his life monochrome. No, actually I'm only missing those evenings when sprayed his body slid inevitably under my sheets until she left each time hoping I asked him to stay. These sweet moments should definitely last longer.

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Saga

I dug them all one after the other. All those lovers of passage and the furies that had chained me, all these animals that abyss of love has killed at one time or another. I walled too long to ignore me again. The space should not be conditional on content, not here, not today. In a shameful silence, the noblest caught were consumed. Then in the words was thought good, I found enough darkness to resurrect me awake from this nightmare that I had killed. Fighting evil with evil. The smoke fades, looks too. I waited patiently for this moment to remove myself from wild somewhere else where I did not that place.

After months of secret, I lost my way. This approach unveil portions of itself to reinvent themselves through the eyes of others. I no longer live for you. I could see through you. I'm definitely more here, not necessarily better, but only a little I must admit. I want to get away justifications and reasons that we must decide when choosing to live in society. I still write to write, just write. Write out guidelines that require supervision or control. Here I am an anarchist.