These days I’ve seen my hands desappear and my eyes fade away in haze. My lips move slowly, swallowing words that fall like stones on my chest. One after the other. I stood in the middle of a crowd and I watched myself fade away. I felt pleasure, I felt pain. There’s something like a bliss in the solitude that hold onto me like moss on a stone by a river. I’ve filled the rooms inside my head with sounds and thoughts. But I’m afraid it turned into a storm and now the sea threats to flood my eyes away.
New favourite pastime: drown my sorrow into 70/80 punk-rock music.