A day for prose is like any other day, just cloudy, with a feeling of approaching the autumn. Somehow poetic, but I love poetry in prose. It's like music. With a difference that it's silent. Silent poetry is loud prose. A day for melancholy. Missing home. While I'm at home. Missing friends. while still having a contact with them. Missing literature classes while starting to attend them.
Writing. A feeling of making love with words.Connection is a feeling of air in your hair. I miss the sea. I miss libraries. I miss people whom I haven't even met before.
Oh baby I miss you.
The illusion of controlling my mind while following the heart.
Mistreated. Broken. But still beating - beat beat beating. Oh i Love you people wish you would feel that.