rain...tears of the lame stars that float upon the darken sky.
those tears terrified me.
why i keep on having shadowy images of charcoal-haired figures swimming in the teardrops, i don't know. the figures- they howl, they cry in anguish, those voices, a million of them, painstakingly, strum in between the rhythm of my beating pulse.
i can't stop them.
i'd rather be carrie white- telepathic in the sense.
i went over the pages of "virgin talents" early this morning, before that i spend full thirty minutes gazing intensely at the overwhelming cover of a painted illustration from an unknown artist. the creator must have been french.
turned the pages, words, words, words- till i caught the sentence,
"...in the same way, it was popularly believed that mediums lost their powers after marriage..."
lost their power after marriage?
true? or untrue?
if it's true: i'll be toasting myself glasses of dark-burgundy wine + a pat on my shoulder + another fag to celebrate + read lonely columns.
if it's untrue: i'll be having myself listening to delicate screamings.