Tweets IX

“After you get what you want, you don’t want what you get”. The old song kept playing in Spectrum bar. Folks, that’s how it ends. With love!

If you start to believe, angels will take you to heaven. Euston listened to Father Nestor. “Yes, despite my wrongs, I know life means love”.

No! she shouted. A bunch of dirty words hit me, killing my emotions. I just had to stop her shouting like a pig. I care so much of her love.

In the begin there was void. Then flow and data filled the void. Structures, loops, forks, language. Gradually conscience. At the end:  Love

No one escapes his fate, said Euston after Flower Asi passed away. I will pay this later, much more. What a pity! I murdered my future love!

They are two, covering each other’s head with their feathers, long splendid tails, black and green. I will shoot, kill paradise bird’s love.

Another speed date: CV, then meet 5’ onsite, light coke, mark Y/N items. Disappointing. The random walk process doesn’t help to fall in love.

Could be I’m snoring at night, could be I lost at gambling, or just because I’m black and you’re yellow or pink. Can’t we simply blend love?

My cat is happy, home after two weeks left at a good hotel. Sleeps now on the black rug. And I wonder. What remains of the ruin of our love?

Nothing to eat, but hot air. Dust. Water rationed. Covered head to feet with white linen robes we wander under the dual Sun. Scorched souls.


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