15. lifestyle blog
Fasion of the thought.
Fashion of the stories that can see the light.
Cinemas, librarys, bars, malls - filled with fashion.
And people so empty.
Jane’s diary on the table
The room is filled with light. I appeared here form my dream. Through me wish. My bare feet were silent so I could reach the comfortable chair ‚im sitting on now, without waking him up. He’s sleeping. I could watch him all night. If I could love myself a little bit that much.. If I colud love my memories. LOve doesn’t make sense. And that’s why it is, it. I watch his silence. I inhale his closed eyeleashes. I touch his breath on the tops of my toes. I see his scent it’s like diamonds scattered in the air. I hear his skin warm and gentle. I taste the memory of his voice in my head. But I don’t speak. I can’t say it as long as I’m somehow asleep and he’s asleep. Sometimes I just walk in rooms and open books people keep on shelfs. I read a santence. Borken pieces of fiction. So I watch him and I stay not because he is „broken pieces” but because I’m here because I want to be.