Driven.

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Let’s have the relationship talk. Let’s be more specific than wondering about someone’s mediocrity.
Let’s talk about her.
The night was intense. It had fallen quickly and we were still standing there, immune to its’ fall. It seems, gentlemen, that the physical condition of a human being can easily be affected by words. More than that, when they said that you should undress the mind and then the body will get undressed on its’ own, they weren’t wrong.
What’s your relationship like?
How do you get in bed?
I was feeling aroused by words that had nothing to do with carnal satisfaction. The psychological analysis I received over a phrase of mine impressed me to the point of desire. Is that what happens to you too? I would really like to know.
I was once asked to write from someone else’s perspective, not mine. Therefore, I am imploring you to think of you as you read. Put yourself into the main role and play your part as I say; get the mask I am asking you to wear.
She needed to stand higher than me and that did not bother me. We talked about non-existent principles, impressions, wrongdoings and last but not least, her leaving if hurting will pursue. That intrigued me to the level of rising even if I was standing lower.
There was a continuous analysis of every phrase or argument we were bringing to the table.
Her eyes were sparkling, contemplating my thoughts, impatiently waiting for me to finish my line.
There was no mediocrity in the air.
My insides were burning in need of corruption.
I reached her lips and grabbed her in my arms filled with dreadful desire. Her body wasn’t enough. I needed more of her. I was inhaling her once again. Once I entered her, her facial expression became softer. Her eyes responded to my desire perfectly and I was craving her even more. More than I could ever imagine.
The relationship talk faded.

Le Jeu du Silence

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2c54e8cc9fb65d8910958ed5325a2580I found out everything about “the game”. A man trapped into his solitude, rambling about meaningless things, the silent noises of an empty court; that should be the image you ought to create in your mind. Perhaps you’re already characterizing him as a crazy person, someone who lost his sense of existence, but here it is where you will be mistaken.
The man wonders whether he should lay there or walk away. Where will he go if he follows the tracks of a poisoning voice ? Nowhere. There is not much thought to that. He will stay and he will continue his senseless speech. The muses of solitude will be his crowd; they must applause at the end, clapping their hands silently.
What about you Human? You are still misunderstanding him. Judging his choice. He is mercilessly speaking loudly so he can be heard by those mute soldiers standing still on the back seats. You don’t understand, do you?
This man knows the purpose of his existence better than you can ever conceive. He knows that solitude, silence, mutation, those are the enemies of the human mind. Nothingness serves the crazy generations, feeding them fear, seducing them into this game of savage surviving. He is not a cave man. He has no physical needs; his only purpose stands on a string, tantalizing itself between sanity and craziness, and he knows that the only way to reach the end of the string alive lies on his dedication to torture the queen of solitude. This wicked game has no ending spell. He chose to begin so he has to play along.