poetry
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weird dream filled with tortures and other stuff, like gun trials, rich homes, some party getting interrupted. in the dream, i knew it wasnt real, moreover i knew ive had this dream before. i dodged every bullet they had, and sat inside a weird car that reminded me of a rollercoaster. then silence i was…
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надеюсь когда я умру по мне будут плакать люди незнавшие меня но знавшие мое творчество и будут плакать по тому что больше не познакомятся с новой поставкой с моего сердца а придется перечитывать мои призрачные буквы при жизни, а когда я умру я посмотрю богу в глаза и он скажет мне что я всю жизнь…
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There is freedom withinThere is freedom withoutTry to catch the deluge in a paper cupThere’s a battle aheadMany battles are lostBut you’ll never see the end of the roadWhile you’re travelling with me Hey now, hey nowDon’t dream it’s overHey now, hey nowWhen the world comes inThey come, they comeTo build a wall between usWe…
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I’ve been choosing mirrors for a long time… I believe that every creator has a choice whether to focus on the mirror or the glass. Focusing on the mirror you choose the reflection of self over the world behind and thus, overshadow your own authenticity. On the contrary, if you look into the glass, you…
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I am engaged to silence, not serenity, but a quiet pearlescent sorrow that permeates everywhere and everything, accompanying my every movement. It’s as if a needle is slowly killing me day by day, piercing deeper and deeper into the solar plexus, which is physically palpable even when I am still. It seeps out in bloody traces…
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see, that’s the thing of all the glass things i have seen today (in my dreams) as i saw Jesus and hand amputations and all that other stuff in my sleep through closed eyelids i saw what truly did or does matter sitting in a funky settling even though its quite quiet. very quiet. just…
Zany Universal 