Thanks for your tender hug.

    

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The rain

The rain lasts

Forever and ever

Washing away dirt and sins and memory

And bringing an almond smell of my woolen coat

The expanding ego calmed down, sizzling with white smoke

The blur foggy scene evaporates into

Our young rebel forgetful heart

Teal plum golden rings in the empty champagne glass

There is no metaphor existing in dream or the world spoke out of your mouth

The Ocean at the End of the Lane–Neil Gaiman

“In my dream, it was the tongue of what is, and anything spoken in it becomes real, because nothing said in that language can be a lie. It is the most basic building brick of everything.”–43

“Ursula Monkton smiled, and the lightings wreathed and writhed about her. She was power incarnate, standing in the crackling air. She was the storm, she was the lightning, she was the adult world with all its power and all its secrets and all its foolish casual cruelty. She winked at me.”–86

“Lettie shrugged. ‘Nobody actually looks like what they really are on the inside. You don’t. I don’t. People are much more complicated than that. It’s true for everybody.'”

“Monsters come in all shapes and sizes. Some of them are things people are scared of. Some of them are things that look like things people used to be scared of a long time ago. Sometimes monsters are things people should be scared of, but they aren’t.”

“Grown-ups don’t look like grown-ups on the inside either. Outside, they’re big and thoughtless and they always know what they are doing. Inside, they look just like they always have. Like they did when they were your age. The truth is, there aren’t any grown-ups. Not one, in the whole wide world.”–112

“How can you be happy in this world? You have a hole in your heart. You have a gateway inside you to lands beyond the world you know. They will call you, as you grow. There can never be a time when you forget them, when you are not, in your heart, questing after something you cannot have, something you cannot even properly imagine, the lack of which will spoil your sleep and your day and your life, until you close your eyes for the final time, until your loved ones give you poison and sell you to anatomy, and even then you will die with a hole inside you, and you will wail and curse at a life ill-lived. But you won’t grow.”

“‘P’raps it will be like that,’ I said, to the darkness and the shadows, ‘and p’raps it won’t work. And p’raps if it is, it would have been like that anyway. I don’t care. I’m still going to wait here for Lettie Hempstock, and she’s going to come back to me.  And if I die here, then I still die waiting for her, and that’s a better way to go than you and all you stupid horrible things tearing me to bits because I’ve got something inside me that I don’t even want!'”–139

Lettie is not there anymore. He still comes back sometimes, when there is the hard time in his life. He goes back, having some tea, eating Mrs.Hempstock’s cooking. Then he forgets. In the safest yet also the most dangerous place throughout endless worlds and endless time. The place doesn’t exist, but it always there. Only the bravest soul could enter, only the strongest heart could also bear to leave. It is sad. But it is live in this world.

The best of you

He peed on my daffodils, on the morning dew, like a monkey standing still.

He dug the mine from my treasure mountain, making charcoal out of it to

pay off the debt he owned to the gardener.

He smiled at the sun; it burnt his eyes with a sizzling sound. Bloody liquid running down his cheeks, I

never saw something as beautiful as that–an expanded kaleidoscope pattern mapping out his pale skin. I

never doubt the toxic gin poured in my glass is splashed with legends.

At the border of our kingdom, the endless sleepless nights yet review the last page.

Tiny things

Every once in awhile, I saw it scripted on you, deep into your skin, deep into my heart.

People say things about me, and my hallucinations on the throbbing moment.

Days pass quickly, the wish I made and how they became so true to live with, reminds

me of what writes on my card. Remember the way you are, remember the way we were.

Foreigner in love

The war is starting while no one really caring
Sword lance bow and arrows bleeding
Keep silence you keep silence
Cold war covers the imagined violence

Shut the light when some one kills slight
Dirty slutty girl and her dark knight
Scorched fears we scorched fears
Seared under land nourishes our skeleton romance

Drink it all the plate of poisoned soup
Enjoy the chant with malevolent chanting
Fall asleep just fall asleep
Amnesia heals the stubborn hurting

Fierce and severe wrapped scene and prop
Lack the right in the middle of this island isolating