It is so sad that one percent of my cell phone's battery lasts longer than your love.
If you cry to the music, remembering the good moments that you won't return, then you have a heart, which can be reached.
I miss you. No, let me clarify. I miss the old you. I miss the old you, which is nice to me. According to the old you, who talked with me every day and always made me smile. I miss the old you, which made me happy and knew what to say at anytime even if i let you down.
Did you ever you look at someone until that person does something very small like, you know, driving a bike, or laugh, or just eat, and it makes you smile, because the person at this point just feels so joyful.
Some people can not hear what you say,
and some hear what you think.
When you do not talk to the person who is talking to, you lose your rights. When you talk to the person with whom you should not talk, you lose words.
The life to which we complain, to someone is a dream.
Sometimes we want a relationship in which there is no strong attachment, there is a desperate, agonizing need for the other person and, therefore, there's none disappointments and illusions are collapsed.
Looking and feeling in vague shape with sharp edges.
Shape which is in mist fades and melts in the formless limitless dream.
Those limitless boundaries with taut outlines that are dissolved again in the limit of infinite wave.
The wave that is now killing me.
