February 2, 2015 Leave a comment

Harmony is when scars are clearly seen on a naked soul and body, revealed with a blind sense of trust and spotted with granted vulnerability.
Harmony is when you are wrapped in the arms of your keeper, covering your ever bleeding wounds by their own flesh, sacrificing their entire universe for your teeth to be revealed beneath red lips smiling and shining the world.

Harmony is red matching blue. Harmony is a moan, a hug and an asymmetric tattoo.
Harmony is a kiss with your taste mixed with smoke.
Harmony is a given promise before we ever spoke.
Harmony is when you replace language with mumbles and numbers.
Harmony is when gibberish is your daily alarms and your life counters.
Harmony is when synchronization is made with no effort.
When that happens, die defending it.

Categories: Social, Vision


November 27, 2014 Leave a comment

How many times have you thought about breaking the routine? How many times have you imagined yourself with power, fame and money? A lot?

Why are you stuck? Humble wage? Not motivated enough to change your own world? Losing interest? Bored? Broken?

There is a way that people tend to lock their thoughts in which is that they postpone breaking the routine because at present they cannot afford breaking it. As if they are afraid to lose their jobs so that they may lose their ability to pay their bills or send their kids to proper schools.

There is another way for breaking the routine that people avoid which I find very convenient to most of human race.
Is it breaking the routine that you’re really after?

Why don’t you quit being an asshole? Wouldn’t that be a major break to your daily routine?
Why don’t you stop getting your nose into matters that aren’t your concern?
Why don’t you avoid comments that are not necessary yet you keep saying them?
Why would you smile in someone’s face while hating his guts? Why don’t you become clear and who loves you for who you are is your wing to fly with and who hates you for who you are can go fuck himself?
Why do you have to be the person who isn’t really you to please people who aren’t really you and in most cases they don’t even matter to you?

Break the routine. Stop being an asshole.

Categories: Social, Vision

Death Note

August 21, 2014 1 comment


By the time you read this I’ll probably be dead. Maybe I’ve chosen death because I couldn’t stand my life without you? Maybe I had no reasons to struggle surviving away from you? Do you really think I wanted to die? It is as simple as I didn’t want to live without you. I didn’t want to die and you know that.

It wasn’t easy for me to die. But you know what? Living without you was harder and that’s why I went to the easier path. I had to escape from reality that didn’t have you, that was so far away from you.

Maybe hell is my destiny but I’ve been introduced to it by living without you so it wouldn’t differ much, would it?

You’re the only one who kept all my secrets, revealed all my weaknesses and caressed all my faults. You’re the only one I got naked for, kissed with all my senses, loved with all what I got.

How could I survive without that? Don’t you know how weak am I when you aren’t covering my back? Don’t you know that I was forsaken since my childhood? I was reborn the day you embraced me. I was resurrected the night you accepted me for who I am.

You were my world. From you I was taken and away from you was my last breath.

I love you.

Categories: Poetry


August 12, 2014 Leave a comment

Yes she’s sweet, indeed she’s hot
Seducing mankind like an alcoholic shot
A red healing potion in an alchemist pot
Beauty is her shell, what’s inside is not
Blinded by her uniqueness he was shot in a blind spot
Joy was the kickoff and agony ruled the plot
An action, an excuse and a permanent knot
He gave himself a chance and himself he forgot
Parallel lines don’t meet, not in a single dot

Beauty is her shell, what’s inside is not
Beauty is her shell, what’s inside is not

Categories: Poetry

stay or change

August 12, 2014 Leave a comment

a splendid adventure


The white and red stitched round blazing through diamond dust headed right for its leather home.

Curveballs start off at one height, one velocity, one direction. You see it, prepare for it, make adjustments to your position to make contact with it, and then it does what every good curveball does. It drops.

The thing about curveballs is you don’t know it’s a curveball till it’s, well, curved. Changed its direction, dropped a few inches, thrown you off your game. At that point there’s nothing you can do to change its direction or make it do what it seemed like it was doing before.

Once the curveball has revealed itself to be the curveball you were not expecting, you have a choice.
You can keep your position and go out swinging, maybe get lucky and tip it off.
Or, you can change positions, drop your chin, and go in…

View original post 195 more words

Categories: Vision

Doom Over Dead Man

June 19, 2014 Leave a comment

The autumn clouds are caving in
And night comes crawling, black as sin
Lightning strikes, and rain begins
A storm that tears my soul

I toss and tumble in my bed
My thoughts are spinning in my head
Darkness nears, soon I’ll be dead
I’m losing all control

I’ve spent my life in foolish quests
for gold and riches, I confess
And now I’m left with just regrets
Too late to change my ways

My life, it seems, has slipped away
I leave no legacy to praise
Nothing more for me to say
My life has been a waste

My time has come for me to leave
When judgment’s passed upon my life
A cold dark grave will wait for me
Will my name live endlessly?
My time has come for me to leave
When judgment’s passed upon my life
A cold dark grave will wait for me
Will my name live endlessly?

So I die
But won’t be mourned
Broken and alone
I wish that I were never born

So I die and won’t be missed
No rune stone will be raised
As my body rots away

All friends and cattle pass away
And death will come for every man
But I know one thing never dies
The sentence passed upon the dead
The time has come for me to leave
When judgement’s passed up on my life
Now I will rest in my dark grave
They speak my name with reverence?

My life has been a waste
No rune stone will be raised
So I die, but won’t be mourned
I wish that I were never born
I rest here in my shallow grave
As my body rots away

Categories: Lyrics

Candle Tears

May 12, 2014 1 comment

In a hot summer night, in a cold living room with an air conditioner set to 16 degrees Celsius, on the main dining table in the middle of the room with 9 filled seats surrounding my presence, I was fixed in the middle, wearing my oval glass jar and my teal wax, I was lit.

On the table, there were not many plates and there wasn’t a serving for every person. The tablecloth was white and the guests began their evening with a welcome glass of water from the host.

My tranquil aqua fragrance was all over the place. Breaching the lungs of the guests, exploring their hearts and seeing their smiles, I glowed.

With the very initial sip of water each guest took from their water glasses, they took off all their clothes, their makeup and their masks. They were all smiling and cheering while eating and drinking, but none of them was really smiling from the inside.

I caught their eyes with no fake look as they didn’t have to fake a feeling towards me. I saw the fake emotions instantly when they had their eyes off me and towards any other guest. None of the guests saw broken hearts, forsaken dreams, overnight tears, bleeding scars or exposed wounds. I saw them all. With soothing glowing fire and cyan blue tears, I squeezed my perfume to the guests. I cried.

What I saw could fill oceans, what I witnessed was enough to flood a continent. It was all hidden beneath their outfits, their undies and their shoes. Covered with their smiles and their cheerful talk, I felt pain. I felt agony, I felt trouble, I felt misery. In my glass container, I saw all their pain and cried.

They got closer to me for my scent, for my soothing light and for my warmness. Nobody got to see what I saw, what they don’t see in their mirrors but they see in their beds before they fall asleep. With my cyan blue tears and tranquil waters perfume; I cried.


Categories: Social
%d bloggers like this: