I wanna go to Paris. I wanna go to coffe shops where they play french jazz music, everybody dances and flows to the music, strangers are no longer strangers, lovers are lovers for life. I wish to fall asleep covered by the moon light, nude and in love. How hard is it to live a passionate life, carefree and sensitive, how impossible is it to be driven by curiosity and curiosity only in life, to be young, want to know everything, love everything, be fascinated by the world and by its mystery..
I want all of it, I want to read books about love and philosophy, write books about love and love only, send letters to strangers..
He was a handsome man. A gentleman. Everywhere he went, every girl he met, liked him... in the right way. They weren't crazy about him, they just wanted him by their side. Or at least someone like him. Most of them thought that he was out of their league... But he didn't like anybody.. He felt like he was supposed to be with someone special who was to arrive soon. He didn't know he already knew such a lady, but had never seen her after his childhood until that day..
He went at work,as always. Said bye to his dog, locked the door three times, said hello to the old lady living next door, who was always kind to him, and he felt sorry about her, sick and lonely as her children had left and che couldn't go anywhere by herself.
Fast past, lightening blast. Stolen sold, lost gold. Darkness hides within the light, stories told fill the night. Danger, danger. Run from danger. Horror, horror, dwells. Singing, sung. Begin, begun. In the night, hide the light! Hide the light! Filled with fright, filled with fright. Fight, Fight! With all your might! Fight to stay the light! Don't fall prey to endless night, seek the dawn before the light.
So I dreamed a dream. It was a boy, no a man. He was perfect. He wooed me in my sleep and he won my heart. He was a beautiful creature. I'll never forget the person of my dreams. He met me at a place dear to my heart. He found me again at a place dearer to my soul. He touched those who are close to me. He won them over first and then he won me. His heart was soft and sweet. His love was genuine and true. Oh, how I wish I had not woken up. I wish he was real. But alas, some dreams are not true or meant to be. How can one love a fictional character so much? I created him subconsciously and now I can't let him go. This is a problem. I wish I could dream of him every night. If I can't have him for real, at least I can see him in my sleep. How sad though. I miss him.
I opened my eyes and remembered. You were lying next to me, immobile, not breathing. Your body was still and cold, your eyes were open and lifeless. The only witness of what had happened was all over me: your blood. I told you I wasn't right, in the head. I told you one day I was gonna snap some wiring in my brain and all the perversions living in it would come out, free. Free for the very first time in my life, to do and undo everything they wished. You always said I was okay, I was sane, I was just a bit odd. Now you are death. Murdered by my own hands. And the worst of all? I remember enjoying it, I remember the ecstasy of taking a life, of sinking that knife so deep sometimes and so shallow at times. I remember, and it makes me smile.