#artofabsolution

Even a child with a pocket full of chocolate stars can tell you – nothing is great if something is greater.

I release my grip from the steering wheel, just to release myself from the guilt of suicide

“Where were you last night?” She stood there, scratching the side of her thumb, looking to her feet, staring at her shoe, willing one to untie for distraction.

You’ll learn one day, when the world ignores your efforts. The most valuable resource in this world is being seen.

It’s all too much isn’t it? All that muchness, too much of it. Too much muchness. Don’t mind a bit of much, because I certainly wouldn’t want to have no much at all. But there is definitely too much muchness.

Do you know what passion is? It’s not some hippy love festival of flowers, dancing, making daisy chains and those cute little notes you leave around the house reminding your partner how romantic you can be. Passion is fire, it’s desperation; it’s a clawing in your throat right down to your heart, like a gritty belligerent need for life when you’re already alive! An imploding tapping, like a clock that’s rapping, in the hunger of a silent scream, scratching, clawing, massacring every now tainted enclosure.

…a devilishly craving of ravenous need; a sordid thrust of lust, as rapist thoughts clawed her rationality leaving her nigh quivering and short of breath, as every dire pant became a traitorous teasing releasing steadily a flood flushing and crushing her down to a core of animalistic desire, want, and need, to rip, to claw, to take.

…trapped in limited shades of disfigurement, layered on layers of layers, spiralling through an existential daydream where neither I nor he nor they formed anything other than treason to reason