6/23/2011

My clever O. was right

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Yes, dear O., you are always in my life, and you were always right, even when you were not, somehow there is something sweet in the mistakes and in the pain...

We, human, will always kill what we love, always, that is true, but I cannot pretend that is not a two-way road, we ended up always being killed by love!
Who is the monster, at the end of the story? We...? Our feelings?

Do we create our own feelings or they just grow up by themselves? And if we create them, is that just for the morbid enjoyment of killing them all, or for the delights of the pleasure of a suicide?


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