Ask what music he was listening to, is your neighbor here? Ya, Himalaya still here. Giants all around.

Loneliness the first and the last round.

Green eyes by surma underlined; mother’s hand somewhere… her tender imprint for sure in the air.

I wanted to say give me your pain; I have done it, as usual, crying, suffocating. I wanted to carry his sorrow on my back, since I am a strong kid – I am a tugh woman, you know.

« As above, so below »

written on the skin. His arm and my questionning. This perpetual research of enlightening.

I wanted to ask him about Wahe Guru, the only one ; let’s rather talk about his veins.

Because pain has no end, because travelling has no longer meaning, cause, man, wanderlust has no wander neither lust: just lovers and lifes, let’s get lost. Let’s be lost.