"life is tick boxes and notes.
i am guilty of loving stationery."

i want to perform. in front of hundreds.
yes. but its not like **** as people watch on www.pleasewatch.com
something more ritualistic
MORE primal like a divine act.
feminine and masculine integrating with an honest envelope.
sign sealed delivered by the ultimate act of universe.
it is soulful with lust but pure as a dust.
lust for the very first time.
you are tasting it for the first time and you realize that you have a magnificent power that never stops to rhyme.
that you can keep on and on.
then all of sudden it will be like nobody is there.
the audience dissapeared.
and there you go. we are adam and eve. there for the first time.
there goes the prakriti and purusha
like rebellion to the addicted and hedonist world of amnesia.

anybody.
who has a story.
do you wanna tell.
i am forming. searching for the new.
please reach me.
i want to interview.

there are no affirmations,
only actions.
yet, they are all begging from the universe.
that, doesn't owe them anything.
the motion. only motion and no affirmation.

life.
a hard laugh.

sincere and simultaneously.
embodying all emotions. gathering all devotions.
making loneliness meet possibilities on crossroads.
crumbling the possibilities into the facts. that's where reality resides.
yet, some of the emotions are still wanted to be exposed.
that's why humans are there for.
and even when you think you shouldn't reveal,
the nafs tickles.
love interrupts.
one who can make love live,
can make you live.
don't look. most of them are not living. they pretend to be alive for you with terms and conditions.
after all, under normal circumstances,
he who has the funeral business running
should have the greatest professional deformation.

what about the forbidden lovers at quarantine time.
the affairs were never fair.
and only one side named the mess as forbidden love,
only to justify.
oh, little liar.
the married one is with his wife, and the girl is all alone in the night.
he still whispers melancholic love words to her eyes thorough a glass that won't satisfy the lust in her heart.

then a good night message appears like a flash.


“be careful. you can’t go out. don't even try.
i need to sit here with my wife and have my glass of wine.
but ti amo and happy lonely quarantine time.”

wake up, little girl.

did the candle ever get angry at the fire?
lighting again and again in each chapter.