A dream. A romance. A love. In Words. I think you prefer when the world "together" means not "a million," but just two.

  Poems to Louis


I was one of the insatiables. The ones you'd always find sitting closest to the screen. Why do we sit so close? Maybe it was because we wanted to receive the images first. When they were still new, still fresh. Before they cleared the hurdles of the rows behind us. Before they'd been relayed back from row to row, spectator to spectator; until worn out, secondhand, the size of a postage stamp, it returned to the projectionist's cabin. Maybe, too, the screen was really a screen. It screened us... from the world.


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Sometimes the beauty of the world is unbearable.
Sometimes the beauty of the world is sad.

Sometimes we can not see it's beauty.
All we see is the ugly life we have.

I always see the beauty of music.
I seldomly see the beauty of one perticular song.
7.11.06 23:43


So alike

How can two persons be so much alike?
How can two persons feel so much alike?
How can two persons suffer so much alike?

And how can they not reach each other?
They could take away their pain.
8.11.06 22:51

I'm obsessed with love ...

12.11.06 02:10


I'm being self-destructive right now.
13.11.06 00:12

The Weight

Who put the weight of the world on my shoulders?
13.11.06 00:13

Maybe ...

Maybe it is that simple.
Maybe god is me ...
19.11.06 21:52


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