the phrase is written when the phrase is created

copulated ecstatic and insatiate with a bottle of beer,

a sweetheart, a package of cigarettes, a candle and fell

off the bed, and continued along the floor and down 

the hall and ended fainting on the wall with a vision 

of ultimate cunt and come eluding the gyzym 

of consciousness

not sad, just disappointed

doctor said i,i'd be alright. oh,everything that i believed,it wasn't true.i found it out when i got close to you.i thought you were different,like a dream.things they ain't never what they seem,whoa.thought i could trust you with my soul.but you can't do that anymore.
the doctor said i'd be alright,but i still feel blue.the doctor said i'd be alright,but i still love you.love you,hate you...love you,want you,hate you...ah,yeah...
i'm different.me myself,i'm different than all the rest.i can only speak for myself,but people can trust me. 

dedicated

passion

I'm dead. No, that's too melodramatic. I'm not dead. But I live without self-respect. I know it sounds silly and pretentious. Most people live without self-esteem. Humiliated at heart, stifled, and spat upon. They're alive and that's all they know. They know of no alternative. Even if they did, they would never reach out for it. Can one be sick with humiliation? Is this a disease we have to live with? We talk so much about freedom. Isn't freedom a poison for the humiliated? Or is it merely a drug the humiliated use in order to endure? I can't live like this. I've given up. I can't stand it anymore. The days drag by. I'm choked by the food I swallow, the shit I get rid of, the words I say. The daylight screams at me every morning to get up. Sleep is only dreams that chase me. The darkness rustles with ghosts and memories. Has is ever occurred to you that the worse off people are, the less they complain? Finally, they're silent even if they're living creatures with nerves, eyes, and hands. Vast armies of victims and hangmen. The sun rises and falls, heavily. The cold approaches. The darkness. The heat. The smell. They're all silent. We can never leave. It's too late. Everything's too late.

βροχος

Τώρα ποὺ σ᾿ ἔχω διαγράψει ἀπ᾿ τὴν καρδιά μου,

ξαναγυρνᾷς ὅλο καὶ πιὸ πολὺ ἐπίμονα,

ὅλο καὶ πιὸ πολὺ τυραννικά.

Δὲν ἔχουν ἔλεος τὰ μάτια σου γιὰ μένα,

δὲν ἔχουν τρυφερότητα τὰ λόγια σου,

τὰ δάχτυλά σου ἔγιναν τώρα πιὸ σκληρά,

ἔγιναν πιὸ κατάλληλα γιὰ τὸ λαιμό μου.

Ντίνος Χριστιανόπουλος

you don't know what love is.. you just do as you're told

 Λευκό χαρτί είμαι

για να ρίξεις τη μαύρη σου κηλίδα

σε σβήνω
μα εσύ επίμονος λεκές
τη μια μου ζωγραφίζεις τα όνειρα
την άλλη μαύρες τρυπες.

 Αν ήμουν χρώμα
  στ' ορκίζομαι 
θα ήμουν κόκκινο της φωτιάς.

what you GET is what you SEE-K

make me a child again

έγινε η απώλεια συνήθειά μας

Εφιάλτης.

Η ζωή δεν είναι εκεί σου λέω. 

Μόνο, σε παρακαλώ έλα..

Όσος καιρός μας απομένει ακόμα.. 

Γιατί κανένα παραμύθι δε με προετοίμασε γι'αυτό;

she lost control. again

Ξαφνικά όμως.. Ένιωσα κάποιον να μου κλέβει το οξυγόνο..

Ήταν ο χρόνος..

Δεν υπάρχει πια καιρός για παραμύθια και ρομαντισμούς..

Τικ τακ τικ τακ..

Γρήγορες σχέσεις..

Γρήγοροι χωρισμοί..

''Άντε να τελειώνουμε..''

Μερικές φορές είναι καλύτερα να μένεις εκτός..

Να βλέπεις χρώμα στους γκρίζους ανθρώπους, στα γκρίζα λόγια..

τόσο πολύ σας διασκεδάζει ο ρόγχος μου;

μήπως έγινα βαρετή 

τώρα που δραπέτευσε το όνειρο;

there is a light... that never goes out

δε με νοιάζει, σου λέω αλήθεια

δε μου τη δίνει να μη σε βρίσκω

μου τη δίνει να σε ψάχνω

όταν τα χέρια μου σε χάνουν

η πονεμένη φαντασία μου σε κερδίζει

διάολε