Sometimes you feel like shadow of a falling set of buildings, a false institution of mockery, an injury in a coastal cliff … you just watch your life gone wasted without being able to do nothing.
Sometimes I wish I could hold a big knife, stab myself in the heart to see if I got one, if it’s a really useful gadget, a piece of meat worth worrying for.
The question is not about falling in love, the dilemma happens when I’ve found that feelings matters, lest I go foolish, I’m giving my beach of sorrow more sand while I keep dazzling of the lines of the far bloody horizons waiting in vain for the saviour ship…