On the Road

The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candle exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes 'Awww'
Jack Kerouac

Provins

Apricot juice at a café with Mamma,
Sunshine on our shoulders, flowers and bees.
A little carrousel and silent cobbled streets.
Caramel ice cream and Kerouac.

This morning the wind blew my wishes away.
They say the tempest is getting nearer, and the wind already stole my dreams last night. Papa says I ought to find my sunshine, but then again, the wind blows it away. Over and over again.
J told me he could never remember his dreams. I promised I would remember them for us. I am not sure I can do that anymore.
x

Star dust

We're only star dust, flying through constellations, dancing in whirlpools.
Until we fall down and apart. Then we're only starghost, lost in black holes.

Lost bones

Lonely bones
Like tree branches
Hanging in a forest of ghosts
Hear them whisper
It's your soul, it's haunted

( notebook of love )

it's only sugar, really.

Have you ever walked in a dream? As on cotton clouds, jumping bare foot in puddles... drinking violet tea and all of a sudden it's covered in snow.

(but you can't say anyhthing, never ever. you can only speak with your heart and with your tears)