Actually a little angry

Those words were like having her soul taken out. It was being inhaled in with the smoke, the cold, the toxins coming from his drink, the music and the laughter in the background. It felt as if the skin on her chest was just air, like clouds, it looked firm enough, but his words would go in like sharp knives and she would feel inside, her heart bleeding away. In an inverted cycle, all this wrung a grin on her face and on the inside, tears poured down her eye sockets. It was kind of a usual feeling, not that she liked it though… life had a funny way of bringing love her way. Never really knew how to deal with it… and yet, his mere presence would make her the happiest person to be around. It was in vain though, and she knew it…the memories of what they once shared felt like smoke, they were there, but so intangible it was actually scary. Maybe she was loosing her mind, well she hoped that was it, but sadly she was far too hale. Pull a cigarette out, burn yourself to ashes and then acknowledge where you are. Make it late enough so it’ll even burn to think about it. How very convenient.

IRON-E

I ♥ KK

N.P.I

Definitely feeling old has nothing to do with age.

ALIVE

I made this pattern ages ago but just recently decided to give it a go as theme for a possible t-shirt. I just love the way it looks. I do apologize again for letting beauty overtake efficiency.

Blind

Trying to sort the future out with my eyes blinded by the glowing naivety of my own self makes me very sad and angry.

VIERNES

Era como tener la cabeza sumergida 3000 m. Como si las sienes estuvieran siendo derrumbadas por la implosion del cerebro mismo, la cabeza colapsando lentamente. Asi eran las noches de viernes. Las formas comunes de deshacerse del malestar simplemente iban atraer efectos secundarios que no eran necesarios. Solo quedaban los vestigios del berrinchudo fantasma de la nicotina, eso que uno siente que el mundo es muy pesado y que el corazon desatado, se quire lanzar del pecho, pero nada mas. Cualquier alternativa seria peor.

En realidad ella sabia. Era esa pregunta que se sentia como puesta con hierro ardiente sobre el pecho. Desde el mismo dia que se dijo aquello y entonces la marca en el pecho ardia, como si por dentro todo fuera pasto seco, todo en llamas. Era dificil poder explicar como es que se daba, pero ella intentaba lo posible para no dejar que tomara el control. Pero era dificil, las palabras resonaban entre timpano y timpano y un coctel de culpa e indesicion le enfermaban el espiritu. Que daria por simplemente poder sentirlo, piel con piel. Talvez asi seria mas facil. Talvez, despues de todo por eso no era asi.