The sun is roaring, the grass is shining and we are all going to die.
The human ear is a logarithmic device. It’s much more sensitive than the human eye and I am just trying to synchronise our abyss.
Music is the only valid substitute of freedom and kisses give birth to harmonies.
Decemberness in August, Julyness in January and Aprilness in October.
Engulfed in flames… The disparity, the perspiration, the intense training regimens; all deemed legal.
The Introduction + The End of Happiness are always tears.
With or without your hands I am dowsed in a sentimental vertigo.
The only Greek who had really something to say in the past 50 years was Panagiotis Kondylis.
She doesn’t know how to count from 0 to 10 but she is a master in the Mathematics of the Soul. In the Algebra of the Soul, to be more precise.
Relinquished and petrified blood drops on the floor look like a mundane promise.
A volcano is being erupted and its shreds underline the sentence:
’’Music is the mirror of the desire’’.
Malignant reactions >> Posthumous Love
Happy is whoever ignores the notions of surface and depth and therefore ignores the 4 mathematical operations.
Loneliness is vertical and it fills your whole body. Exchanging words with absence is the worst way of breathing.
Denying reality is as you are wearing wings while sitting on a chair. Beautiful, but bitter.
Please, do not forget to put headphones in my coffin.
I felt your teeth in my heart but there was no fear and no pain. There was only a lightning storm on my forehead which hit you terribly beautifully in between your legs.
And your heavenly name filled the room with fresh air and delicious oxygen.
Brain explosions at Colorado Springs!!!
The lies for the cowards and the truth for the braves.
I invent flattering metonymies for your sorrow and instead of dancing like Cinderella you are socializing on the internet.
We are who we are when we stop ourselves from doing something its impossible not to do.
Our passports have been issued by the Republic of the Universe. We are all eternal citizens of the Universe and the Earth is just our temporary residency. And, it is more exciting to be a KIC 8462852 rather than being a 2015 TB145.
Vincent Van Gogh was a realistic man.
We are living in the era of ’’I want you so much but I am afraid to touch you’’.
Absolute + Holistic feelings remain always incomplete and last forever and you love me so much that my mind is thinking and imagine exactly the same sceneries with yours.
I sanctified your insides and you crucified my skull and then you vanished like insipid smoke.
We do what we can to maintain our paranoia but your help is always welcome!
Memory is the Trojan Horse towards the balance of living or the turbulence of existing.
I mean this kind of dialogue when a clown is dancing and clapping inside your head, don’t you know?
The ’’off line’’ will get back in fashion and these will be brilliant + wild times.
During the penetration, she was sending kisses to the stars. And the stars received them!!! Can you believe it?
The voice interrupts and/or incarnates the sharpest thoughts; most likely it interrupts them.
Don’t ask anyone about anything. Only the Music and the trees know the answers.
The sun lives within you and me. Our eyes will cross and our juicy rivalries will transform to lysergic menace.
Locked hands ≠ Locked hearts
Don’t you hear me talking to you every day? Don’t you see the tail of my shadow on the back side of your neck?
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