The way to recognize a dead word is that it exudes boredom.
This diary is my kief, hashish and opium pipe. This is my drug and my vice.
When I am most deeply rooted, I feel the wildest desire to uproot myself.
One must be thrust out of a finished cycle in life, and that leap is the most difficult to make - to part with one's faith, one's love, when one would prefer to renew the faith and recreate the passion.
I love your silences, they are like mine.
Great repressions create dualities.