.even machines have hearts

When you can’t stop, because it feels so damn good, even though you know you’re going to be sore the next morning.

Our Mistakes

From your side of the city, do you wonder, how two very different pieces align in temporary happiness?
I can remember tasting your lips and quiet bliss between us, although it feels faint now, it was only this morning.
I love you in frustration, painfully obvious in our conversation.
I wanna be where we were before without repeating our mistakes.

This is for you James, so that you don’t have to sit and wonder what I am talking about.

"You come to love not by finding the perfect person, but by seeing an imperfect person perfectly."

- Sam Keen

You make it so easy to feel like home, even though it’s not our home but yours. I enjoy the quiet of the mornings as we wake up to the sunlight bathing the room. The way you tangle your limbs with mine so I have to pry them apart to run to the bathroom, eager to return to the warm bed and your warmer body. Your skin is so soft under my fingertips but I can feel your muscles dance whenever I apply pressure. I love have solid you are, how strong you feel, how safe I feel. Your mouth finds its way to mine, sometimes and I melt into the kiss from your sweet lips. I’m in love again, in a daze again, so amazed again until I remember you aren’t really mine. We are in the kitchen and you sing along to the tiny voice on your speakerphone. You smile at me, half naked, bronzed and beautiful, the shorts riding low on your hips as you whip up breakfast, lunch or dinner. I am enthralled by you, as in between tasting the sauce, your eyes, then your lips meet mine. It’s not really real I try to remind myself but I melt into your lips, your hands sliding down my hips and between my thighs and I wonder, why can’t you simply say you’re mine?

"I can’t forgive my lack of self control. I can’t resist the expression. It’s like a firefly that [has] foreseen its death. It just wants to shine the brightest it can on the last day.
It’s like two lovers who weren’t meant for each other, made love knowing it’ll be their last night.."

- James

This is one of the most beautiful things I’ve read in a long time.

elrune:

We both dreamt wildly of the kind of love that never made it out alive.
a love that is more of a creature rather than emotion; that grows within the pits of wombs and starts to eat you to your death. The kind of love that cannot fit in the human body but only in the vast extremity of the abstract…

I haven’t spoken to my little brother in so long what with everything that has happened with the surgery, my being ill and being so far away. I also feel like the last couple times we spoke on the phone he didn’t really want to speak to me. My mom called me today and said that sometimes she sees him crying himself to sleep and that he’s almost always angry and quiet. Growing up he had all of us in the house with him and now he’s alone. She says it’s hard for him. I can imagine. I feel so selfish and torn in two. If there is anybody in the world I love, it is with out a doubt my baby brother. I suppose he’s not a baby anymore because he’s fifteen and practically 6 feet but in my heart he will always be my baby brother. Every time I hug him I remember growing up with him. I used to call him “precious” because that was what he was. I remember holding him when he cried when the arguments between my parents would get loud and violent. I remember changing his diapers and reading him books in funny voices just to make him laugh. I remember making arts and crafts for school projects or just for fun on boring afternoons. I remember how distant I got the year I was with Tony and how much it hurt him. But I remember the first time I sat down with him and played a game of cards after Tony died and the look on his face was worth everything. I remember the letter he wrote me back in October when I first moved out. My baby brother has had to grow up so fast and it’s not fair. It’s not fair to any of us. To any of my siblings. And it’s killing me because I love him so much but I don’t know if I’m willing to sacrifice my freedom to show him that I care.

He said

There’s too much intensity
And too much passion
It’s burning me up in a chemical fashion
I want something simple
I just want a friend
Somebody who’s gentle that I can defend
This new girl’s petite and she’s sweet and she’s graceful
She doesn’t know me and things I’ve done disgraceful
Although she’s so mainstream I like that she’s shy
Whenever we talk she avoids my eyes
When I am with you I’m shining too brightly
And when we are naked, I hold you too tightly
You confuse me, frustrate me, comfort me and soothe
You know I’m a coward and I know you well too
And that’s why I’m saying I want someone new
[I want a fresh start to to hide from the truth]

I breathed in a cold winter air, and watched my warmth fog up the glass
button nose pressed against the windowsill, dreamy eyes half closed against the drone
of theoretical field displacement,
capitalize on this moment
Bourdieuian philosophy soaks the air when we speak
like the way his bristles bristles, his teeth flash
his hands motion
there are grey hairs in place, maturity quite existent in sweet dichotomy
a solitary glance in my direction, a smile
warm hug and comforting shoulder against the well worn sweater of success
I wanna be like you I silently whisper

"my vision…
i see death in a samurai armor swinging its scythe, beheading all the skeletons in sight…then it stopped, the flow has stopped.
and ofcourse this is bullshit,
the situation is actually much worse. the images are going so fast in my head that its making my head hurts; keeping my eyes open doesn’t help it, i still see them in my eyes that do not exist (imaginary eyes perhaps?).
but good thing is i’m getting quite a few ideas down, in terms of designs and marketing…i haven’t thought too much about the pricing for the prints tho…but if i do it like the way i wanted to do it, i’m thinking it’ll be pretty expensive, i prbly have to try to keep it simple.
my sketches are pretty raw right now, it’s hard for me to draw the background. I got on avg about 30% of the ideas from each drawing still in my head, hopefully i won’t forget. i can’t wait to show you my ideas…"

- letters from long ago

Monday

Would you laugh if I told you that it was the best day of my life? Would you laugh if I told you I love you more than you’ll ever know?

What do you do when somebody tells you that you are all they think about night and day. That you are on their mind all the time and they don’t know why. That it’s weird because they never felt this way about anybody, especially somebody they hardly know. That whenever they see you they have this overwhelming urge to hold you and keep you protected? To me it all sounds like lines. And I’ve heard them before. And I can’t make my heart trust them even if I wanted to.