WithoutWax

The new scene shocked him so violently. It felt different from the previous five. He was torn between its symbology and the perfect closure it added. He always believed he could see it. The urge to learn about his past lives kept haunting him. He has been meditating for quite long, the sufi tune was playing all over again, must have been more than an hour. The breathing exercices gave him a light feeling of dizzyness, due to hyperventilation… He must end the session at once… Something called him not to! He was stroken by the scene… A nomadic journey; camels, dunes, veiled bedouins resisting the intense sun beam. ‘’

He penetrated her… She sighed… He penetrated her harder… She sighed intensly… He felt the urge to accelerate… She moaned … They aimed to the same… Although they acted differently… He felt it coming… She still hasn’t felt it yet… He felt he’ll get a glimpse… The image was still blurry for her… The image was their aphrodisiac… He did it… He saw the image for a split second… She was still moaning… He lent her a deaf ear… He got all he wanted… She felt she was on her own… She was on the quest for her own image… Ironica

There once was a seagull, an ordinary everyday seagull who spent his days soaring over the glittering water surface, looking for fish to hunt... When he was younger, he had discovered that fish are the shallowest creatures on the face of the earth, and they barely had a brain... As Nazi as it might seem, but that was the only reason why the seagull hunted and ate the fish... they were a waste of space... One day, as the seagull was flying over the sea, he saw a glittering fish swimming underneath... he prepared himself, and headed towards it, took it in his beak preparing to eat it, and it was then that he heard a choking sound that said:

She wipes the make up off her face Takes off her costume Hands it to the wardrobe mistress She always laughed at that name Imagining a wardrobe having an affair with a mistress An ugly one she might add… She lights a cigarette Forces some vitamins Into her throat Wears a new mask “Different audience tonight” she thinks to herself She walks out of the backstage Talks to random friends A journalist comments on her voice Nearly lost it tonight She forces a smile… “I could kill you asshole” she thinks to herself She laughs as she sees him approach She hugs him for getting her flowers She loved flo

let there be night... the joy is no more... it was left on the doorstep of the night before... disappearing out of sight... let there be night... the joy is not to keep... it's burried in the soil, deep down, so deep... away from any light... let there be night... joy will live a day... and then it will surely lose its way... and choose a different fight... let there be night joy gave birth to tears drowning everything with its own fears... and merging black with white...