Hate Is Always A Clash

Traveling Is A Brutality. It Forces You To Trust Strangers And To Lose Sight Of All That Familiar Comfort Of Home And Friends. You Are Constantly Off Balance. Nothing Is Yours Except The Essential Things: Air, Sleep, Dreams, Sea, The Sky - All Things Tending Towards The Eternal Or What We Imagine Of It.

Perfect Behavior Is Born Of Complete Indifference. Perhaps This Is Why We Always Love Madly Someone Who Treats Us With Indifference.

The Face Of The Night Will Be An Old Wound That Reopens Each Evening, Impassive And Living. The Distant Silence Will Ache Like A Soul, Mute, In The Dark. We'll Speak To The Night As It's Whispering Softly.

A Decision, An Action, Are Infallible Omens Of What We Shall Do Another Time, Not For Any Vague, Mystic, Astrological Reason But Because They Result From An Automatic Reaction That Will Repeat Itself.

I Spent The Whole Evening Sitting Before A Mirror To Keep Myself Company.