Whisper softly in my ear...

It was love at first sight,

at last sight,

at ever and ever sight.

I shall not waste words on recent developments. I shall not ponder how it can all vanish in an instant or how I am surely going to do something to sabotage it. I will not second guess myself and think bad thoughts just for the sake of being discontent. I will not wallow, I will not even doubt myself. I am worth it, and I deserve this. I deserve you.

Karr comes tumbling down...

He holds his breath

as the entire world watches

how the boy who finally got it all,

is about to lose everything with one single stroke. 

I am titanium...

I wanted different things. Things I can't even write about or explain. I'm not sure how I conjured them in my head - all I know is that the day after she died, thoughts and fantasies came rushing through my mind, as if a part of her was left behind, planting these wishes inside of my heart, guiding me towards a destiny I can't begin to phantom. It is so intangible that I sometimes find it hard to fall asleep, because I try and try to picture what the future looks like, who's standing beside me, where I am, what I'm doing, but all I see are images that are not of this world. With each passing day my circumstances make less sense, and I am left reminiscing about a past I didn't live, and a present that was never meant to exist. I ponder what I should do next - yet as it turns out, the decisions are not really mine to make. I am in the hands of her daunting will, and I can't even pretend I could predict what might happen next. Will I get sick? Will I fly? Will I be able to let go, and love like I loved her? I have no idea, truly ... I have no idea at all.

He stared at the moon for so long that the sun eclipsed his sight. He could't move or go home, because he realised it was over. He wasn't bitter or sad or angry, for he was so sure that what he felt was real. And if perhaps in some distant alternate universe you see each other in your new lives, completely different, but somehow the same, he shall smile at you with gratitude and remember how you walked your first steps together - learning from each other and growing in spite, or maybe, because of everything that you had to endure. Never forget that the best kind of people are the ones who touch the slumbering parts of you, the ones you didn't even know where there. These people plant a fire in your core that grows wild through your body and brings warmth to your mind - that is what you have given him. That's what he hopes to give someone forever. 

The wars inside my mind...

I took on all your pain

am I making a mistake?

I don't think you'd ever leave me,

with all your burdens underneath me.

I miss you is an understatement,

memories are becoming jaded,

all my love I sacrifice,

love is just another way to die.

Dreaming about the things we could be...

I fell for you, and you just smiled, because you knew.

Something has to be amiss. He is sure of it. Either his past will come back and knock him off his feet, or he will do something to scare you off. There is no real hope for this to last without blood and sweat, because he knows the story of his life all too well. You have been given to him, only to be taken away, only to spite him into never forgetting that he wished for a story greater than anything before, never fully grasping that he might just get it, and that perhaps that very same tale will one day kill him. He cannot even phantom that someone could become so important in such a short period of time, and he wonders if he fell in love in an instant, can he fall out of it with equal speed? The present makes him shiver, and the sheer thought of the future makes him tremble, yet as you hold his hand, somehow the voices quiet down and the world stops spinning - even if for just a moment.

Take up all my pain...

Love is just a way to die...

I realise now that the harder my choice will be, the more I will be sure that the dreams I dream are truly what I want. You are exactly who I needed to meet - not only to remind me that more than whatever, I am a writer who lives for fairy-tales, and isn't anything at all without his emotions running wild. Because nothing isn't better or worse than something. Nothing is just nothing, and I cannot sustain myself on it. I need to feel - anything, anything at all, if only to remind myself that a lot can happen between now and never, and that who I am, isn't necessarily who I'll always be. I guess what I'm trying to say is that you might be the first person I could fall in love with, and not the kind of love I invent for my stories, but the kind I can't control, the kind that takes hold of me, that sets ablaze the heart, and helps me jump-start my soul. And I know I've written those words before, but somehow this turn around I think I'm writing them for me, and not to serve a notion of what is expected of me, or better yet, what I expected from myself. I could be wrong, god knows I've been before, but for the first time I don't even care - I don't even care one bit.

I think it's time to let you know...

With one single touch...

I have no words for myself - just the simple notion that when it comes to the will of the universe, I am as powerless as I've ever been. I know what's happening, it's so clearly evident that it's kind of hysterical. The stage is being set for the greatest downfall I have been privy to, and perhaps the one that shall finally catapult me away from reality and on a crash course towards the moon. Because sometimes the future changes so quickly and completely that we are only left with the haunting unawareness of what to do next. We can choose to be afraid of it, to stand there trembling, not moving, collapsing beneath the pressure to above all else, keep breathing. We can assume the worst, that we are undeserving, unworthy of a destiny transcending common circumstance ... or we can firmly step forward, with the faintest of smiles and the most powerful of gazes, with resolve and a steady hand, with blazing passion and uncontrollable determination. We can take a leap and assume our future will be simply brilliant.

He wants you to take over control. To feel you everywhere as you touch him anywhere. There is no denying that what is being born is something not of this world. It is alien in the way it morphed from nothing and came into existence from the sheer power of the passion which fuels this unlikely union. You slam him against the wall and he slams you right back, losing one another in a fiery display of our most primal urges and instincts. The rush, as day turns into night and as night turns back into day, with both of you still breathless from consuming each other time after time, makes the boy who dreams, believe that indeed, sometimes, even his wildest fantasises can come true. He just has to be patient enough, strong enough, graceful enough to wait through the hardships and be ready when inevitably, the world is at his feet.

Playing hide and seek...

He had some trouble with himself,

he always belonged to someone else.

He drove for miles 

and wound up at your door.

He doesn't mind spending everyday,

out on the corner in the pouring rain.

Just look for the boy with the broken smile,

and ask him if he'd like to stay awhile.

Diving too deep...

It's funny how the minute I decide to dash onward and set myself free of the chains that bound me to the past, I am instantly enveloped in new circumstances, new complications, new distractions. Even though I've made up my mind that I'll never again allow myself to drift away from the fantasy worlds I conjure and the plans I've made, it seems my heart has a different agenda. The way it makes me see the world in new lights, and the people that where always there now shine so bright I find it difficult to ignore. I don't know how, but I think I need to lose control, and perhaps allow myself the thrill of making mistakes again. I remember being so fearless, so full of resolve to claw and sweat, even if just for the sake of saying I tried. I'm proud of who I've become, sometimes I just wish I wasn't forced to make so many sacrifices - letting go of tiny pieces, until I found myself here, standing in front of the mirror, without a fucking clue who's staring back at me. And while my confidence soars to new heights, I am scared that with it, so will my insecurities, because the higher I fly, the bigger distance I'll fall if it all comes crashing down. The further I reach, the greater I'll bleed when the boy who dreams, has been left with no dreams at all.

Locked out of heaven...

You will learn to love again...

As he is silenced by the thousand roars of seasons past, it has never been more evident that life is nothing like he imagined. Growing up means letting go, and moving on means holding back tears as you watch dreams come tumbling down. So many mistakes have been made that it seems as though his entire journey has become about getting up from falling down, instead of flying off towards the moon. The haze of his glorious summer reminds him that there is so much more to living than life, and that the moments he does not see coming, are the ones worth waiting for. Yet why, for no reason at all, does he wake up felling tired? Why can he barely sleep, and why oh why does he still ponder a future with all of you who ran way? He conjures fantasises where you meet, where you forget what has been done, and forgive what cannot be forgotten. He thinks of the stories you shall share, and the new adventures you shall experience. He sees a world without darkness or pain or deceit - one of pure light and serenity. One of infinite joy, and everlasting hope. One he shall always dream of, yet surely, never achieve.

I will always want you...

Barefoot on a rainy night...

Take a chance, 

and never look back.

As I continue to document my ever-circular rise and fall, I ponder what all of you must think of me. Do you imagine what I look like? How my voice resonates against the walls, how my thick brown hair gently sways as the wind blows leafs off trees, or how my melancholic gaze would make you tremble? Do you find meaning in the words I write or do they fall on death ears? Do they make you feel better, like someone knows exactly the pain you've experienced and the magnitude of agony you've endured? I wonder how your perceptions would change if we ever came face to face. If we would recognise each other without uttering a single word or above all else if we would understand one another without questions or misunderstandings. I guess what I'm trying to say is that you've become important to me. Forever quiet voyagers laying witness to a boy who wants the world, and won't settle for anything less. It seems to me that you have become my friends, my family, even though we've never met, even though we never will.

What is dead may never die...

He sheaths his sword, he mounts his steed, and he rides away as fast as he possibly can. He flees because he knows he cannot win this battle - his demons have revealed themselves and he was utterly unprepared for the terror of their haunting. Those he leaves behind shall surely not understand, for he is incapable of fully explaining it. He is simply the boy who shall wander till the stars lead him home, because sometimes it is better to walk away than to spill blood and shed tears. They will meet again, for sure, yet as of now it is perhaps better if there are no traces of him left. It is clear that his truth and yours are vastly different, and that no amount of rationalizing would equalize them. In the end, all he has, is a story he tells himself time after time, until he forgets that it is a lie.

I think I'm one of those people that feeds off destruction. Someone who looks for carnage and finds enjoyment diving into the wreckage of burnt down dreams. I'm someone who can fall in love with a single look, and fall out of it with one word. Someone who can make all your fantasies come true, but in the same breath be nothing like you ever imagined. I am someone who takes pride in his ability to survive, to endure, and above all, to not just overcome, but become better with each passing day, each passing hour, each passing moment. I am someone who does his best work in chaos. But chaos isn't a pit. Chaos is a ladder. Many who try to climb it, fail, and they never get to try again - the fall breaks them. Some are given a chance to climb, but they refuse, because they would rather cling to the universe, to love, to illusions. Only the ladder is real, the climb is all there is.