“The Ones Who Notice The Storms In Your Eyes, The Silence In Your Voice And The Heaviness In Your Heart

Omg yus

A,

I was walking in the hallway with a friend of mine, he used the be verb “a” and the word “love” in that particular order. I protested. And said, love is not “a”. It’s not a single thing, it’s not even a thing!  It’s an explosion of feelings, unending questions and a rush of everything in split seconds. I told him, and he retorted saying I am a linguist.  But no, it wasn’t about words, it was about feeling every sensation. But you know what is the best explanation of love? It is YOU. Your love is the heat of the Sun on my skin, the rust of coldness when you eat Ice Cream; the explosion of excitement when you jump off a cliff. You yourself is love.

- 1919

Muse.

the color of your tiptoes are underlined in pain

wearing

same mistakes again

and again

and

again .

questions are answers you barely know

slipping outside of your window ,

truth escapes your roots

and it hurts to press it

while it still blows .

oh , what a foolish and pretending man you are ,

like a cover of a résumé ,

distinguished , yet afraid

to touch the tip of my lips

without letting my grip slip ,

tone out of reach ,

with a husky , voice deep ,

haunting , inspiring and neat

like a pleasing feeling

tickling me , kissing my fingers

- you're art , unavoidable , breathtaking

tearing everything apart , a daydreamer .

-t.f.s.

Hidden.

I used to know world's broken slides and I travel around them in the ocean open wide.

Avoiding the thousand times of "you're a liar", that shows how much I like drinking my mistakes.

-t.f.s

REVEAL.

your luxury was worth that light my pleasure,

my imagination of you is all that matters,

the secret language for your body

took my will to hold on my sins,

forgetting all the darkness,you're

making me sick to reveal.

-t.f.s.

ABSOLUTION-THE CALL.

suffer.

the moon gazes upon the quiet

fearful and dark city where

the screams are loud and strain,

awfullness continues in the streets

life is an incredible disease.

ocean waves come closer to the city,

it smells like death,it's poison,

none of them has seen what's

born inside in a hole

yet none of them(humans) will live long...

...no one will ever feel how deadly was this challenge,

no one could ever kill the absolute that lives and it will ever live on earth.

suffer.

those eyes don't hide the pure desire to kill and eliminate.

fear.

it smacks you down to give up and die in tears.

disease.

it's like the madness taking all over the world,

making chaos miserable to handle.

surviving doesn't exist when the end comes,

when the doors of Hell open,

when a sound appears...

...and the ocean rebels

to it's RELEASE..

-t.f.s.

Notes to myself.

Killing the happiness

is like killing an animal

or nature that gives

hundred of lives.

My ideas are illusion

and illusion makes me company

after I lose my confidence.

Whatever I am, whoever I was

is the past that I've re-written.

There's a new flesh bleeding

In my cells in divine,

whatever needs to be finished,

my past will lay in pieces.

-t.f.s.

For another sad human without a realization.

You don’t know anything about God, do you…? Perfection and harmony? God cares more about your pores than he does that. He’s famous for his coincidences and absurdism. I’ve seen it countless times. No matter how masterfully you devise your schemes, where we are is here. A prison at the ends of the earth. The ones that run the world are, in fact, the ones who howl, run, and shed blood in incidental storms. You and I are powerless in the face of their intense spirits. Do you know what that means…? You’re correct. Humans are sinful and foolish. But they aren’t quite as boring as you think.

“I also feel like traveling and getting to know the literatures of foreign countries.”

— Hermann Hesse, from a letter to Alfred Schlenker, wr. c. November 1914