Your absence makes me remember everything I want to forget.
If it weren’t for melancholy,
I doubt that I would ever be able to write poetry.
It was the lame poems, that made poets famous.
But if it weren’t for the really great ones, none of them would have been able to become immortal.
My curse as a writer, is this:
I can write at any given moment,
but at that certain moment
I can write only what that moment wants from me to be written.
If I could sum up my life in just a few words, I can easily say that it’s made from a million memories of a few years ago, but not a single one from yesterday.
We live in a time where people have misinterpreted the saying “Happiness is only real when shared.” that’s why we see every second of everyone’s life being shared online.
To you, I am, what You think of me. To me, I am, what Myself thinks of me. But, none is real, none is true. I am!