dream, imitation, life, soul

i KILLED ME

And there is a diary in the book shelf that belongs to Kashiv; Dreams, it is named in that hurried hand of his. And if you read, flipped through the pages you wouldn’t find any date nor would you know one dream from the other, it would go on like one continuous dream. Just like… Continue reading i KILLED ME

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beauty, love, poetry

BE NOTORiOUS *

And in the dead of night, when the moon shone in all the brightness of the sun, and, in return the moon decreased the opacity, the wind from the broken glass of the window, where a memory of the stone that hit the heart of the glass remained, fluttered the innumerable wings of the diary,… Continue reading BE NOTORiOUS *