in autumn with love

i feel like i have to write something but there's nothing in my empty head except that terrifying void and the blows of autumn wind. there's nothing except some pieces of colorful leaves and the dirty puddles on the lonely streets.
there's nothing except your imagery being tattooed on my memory covered with dust.
anyway it doesn't make any sense.
when you have an autumn crying right in front of your door nothing else makes sense.

maybe we've been lost several lives ago, having been separated and thrown into different worlds and now can't help realizing who we are and more importantly — what for.

*
when i have a glimpse at her, i feel something more than an admiration. i feel something more than just simple interest. i feel that invisible bond connecting our broken souls and leaving the traces of ineluctability on our lives.
we can be parted but we can't part.
shouldn't have to.

*
i pay much more attention to the mental than i should have. perhaps that's the reason i'm doing my best to avoid material and keep staying separately from everything what's being called life. i've created my own fuckin world and brought myself as a sacrifice into it in hopes to resurrect as a phoenix from the marsh. fuckin smiling here. «i'll rise from the ashes of my marsh».

i know i can't jump over the rain and the recollections burn my skin, eating my mind and pressing my heart right into my throat. sometimes i'm afraid i might swallow it in one day and it will keep beating somewhere inside my stomach.
i listen to the songs you listen, watch the movies you watch and try to pretend you doing something in this current moment. i force my imagination to create pictures but it displays nothing but black'n'white movie. and us
as main heroes of it in ridiculous hats of the beginning of twenties.

i'm not green, i'm not purple. i'm spotted.

and broken to colorful pieces.

November 16, 2009