lunedì 24 novembre 2008

wired .4 abuse

friendly and open. highly empathetic. tolerant (to pain as well). blind trust. maximum give. that's me. positive sociability and willing to take up more crap than allowed on any normal person's agenda. attracted to dominant, extrovert and excitement- seeking men.
frank. my psychopath i send my girlfriend to the asylum boy. who wants to convert his anger into dominance.
i am a dominant myself. and as soon as i tie a man up feeling ceases to exist. i get bored and look for another prey.
sensitive and good listener,oh he likes that.and i like the terrible crazy look in his eyes which turn absolute black when i whisper him poetry.
i get him , i get him all. an dthe fucking thing is that, the more i empathize, the more he ties me up.
i see his insecurities clearly. i see the picture he sees and the bigger one that he doesn't see. i feel i could go away anytime i wanted. but i just don't want to.

the truth. i, i, i. i want him, this bad bad bad him. i want the sex and the laughter, the talk and the anger, the poetry and the air made of exploding particles, the euphoria, the trance, the taste of caramel, the tattooed man making me breakfast. the fighting and the yelling, the absurd and the pain. the violence and the bitterness. i want to filter it all through mySelf.

and its all in my little head.
he's zero empathy, unable to keep a relationship. will never love me.
so why the fuck do i stick around? i say to myself, as long as there's no pain,i can stick around. so its an army of me against and with myself to make me a princess, detached enough to be able to stick around.
besides, it would be so damn boring without this story.

"i need to start fucking other boys as well. excuse my lack of poetry. "

mercoledì 19 novembre 2008

Don Giovanni

Right in between being awake and asleep, a sudden shot of honey is injected into my muscles. A shot of honey into my neurons, making the synapses burn. A short circuit of happiness, you, smiling.

Patience is not one of my virtues. What's the point when you can grab things quickly and feed yourself? Why are all the people so afraid?It's better to be going places, even if it means ending up against a wall, instead of going Nowhere.

Dear, I'm not in the mood for your moods.
So when Don Giovanni's third act begins, you can kiss my tush goodbye.

lunedì 17 novembre 2008


what do u hate?
insomnia. the way i kid myself. compromise. my laziness.

what do you love?
strawberry milkshake.

what's on your "to do" list?
face myself. stop wasting time. never leave the house without wearing lipgloss. delete all the music on my pc and throw away half of the stuff i have.

describe yourself in a word.

what's your nickname?
desperate-for- love

what's your biggest desire now?
becoming myself.

martedì 11 novembre 2008


With colours which taste like blood, I paint You.
I paint you in my mind an then I worship you.

venerdì 7 novembre 2008


I feel it coming. Im gonna do it again. Be weak, go for the strong and negative sensation, be unable to let go, fall and get crushed.
How do I keep myself strong and standing?

giovedì 6 novembre 2008


Milk and honey.
I feel that the earth beneath my feet could melt anytime now. In my mind, it's raining. Literally, sweet, translucently/But it will not. It never does. The world will continue to slip forward and we shall slip with it, some of us pretending to be happy, others loving their void and misery and others knowing that the button for happiness is in our brain.
In my brain, it's raining. Literally. Milk and honey.

martedì 4 novembre 2008


Some people are butterflies. Through painful shots, they inject inks into their wings so colour will change continuously. From blue to violet. From violet to red, from red to green, from green to yellow. From yellow to magenta. The weakest ones die really young. The stronger ones continue to throw themselves against textured walls for long white years.

A butterfly lives inside my brain.
Its natural colour is aggressive violet. It feeds itself on my(succulent)madness.
Its wings shiver cunningly in absolute silence,while it stands completely still.

Fermina Daza listens to Yumeji's theme.