width="475" height="400">
.:Monday, October 17, 2005:.
This place has been too much for me.
Or at least that's how it seems right now.

Beauty is innocence, innocence is ignorance, ignorance of pleasure, pleasure is guilt. I'm guilty.... You? You're innocent. You may throw the rockstone. But I got you in the gunsight.

I need time.
to settle down
I need my notes
my own...

and they certainly aren't here.

I ought to keep my words, to me.
just for a while, till we can figure out who is who and what is what.
I belong to be gone, to break the moment.
Just for a while, till I can reach my belongings.
Not being 60 minutes older than I was
but being me, myself and not anonymous.
Loving like it should be, making love in tea cups
and declaring war under bed sheets looking like the moon's skyline.

Humano Lagrima Instinto Suicida del Mundo- del fantasma en fotografí­a.

.:Lo wrote this at: 2:32 PM:.