One night of suffering, of passion and that feeling under your skin, is worth more than any night of light hearted fun. Don’t make the mistake to assume one is better than the other. They are both true to themselves.
The truth is, that nothing that is honest comes without pretense. As soon you try to be honest, you want to achieve something and you fail to be yourself. There is no way you can just be without being aware…
Who is admitting their desperation? No one. We are all needy, caught in a draft of approval of people we wouldn’t give a shit about if they were not feeding us sugar. So we jump like a dog at…
This night is like a Howling Bells song. For some reason I go better with those nights. Soft rain hitting the streets and putting that special effect filter over everything. People in the bus have this look on their face, a haze in their eyes, their thoughts captured elsewhere but here. A girl in an orange dress sitting in the pale light of a bus station, her eyes fixated on a far spot beyond the curve of the street. So beautiful. And I almost didn’t go out.