by HelluvaGirl

I like the way your mind works. /…/ Like a library of exotic sweets, rich paintings, flowing poetry, eternal music and literary knowledge in one… I also came across a few volumes of liberation and a magnum opus of pure light, passion and tenderness. A place to revel and swim in natural bliss… Though I’m still wary of the formidable dark side, and fearing something untowards, probably wrong to hope it’s an easily digestable paperback.

Yes, we become literature; we wake up to being something that does not exist – we were this all the time, unaware of the truth. Dream characters who did not realise they were made of cloud that dissipates from a deeper breath.

I never knew it was so hard to not exist, as if my stomach was clenched, with all the most tender and careful words collected under a sign that reads Fiction.