Someone said someday

"There is something very different about him. Something... (silence) ... very genuine."

Connecting Dots - II

There are nights when I walk alone. Walk on the streets I call home. Streets of blood, pain and relentless agony. Streets completely clattered, crowded and heart broken. But then I can't deny, have to agree that peace originates off these same pathways. These are ragged but not cold. Agony but all mine. Rubbish but not more than me, foolish but not greater than my heart. An eccentric quietness that surrounds this place... complete silence. An absolute numbness. And then I start assuming that I am sweeping the same streets which I should have owned. Feeling completely wasted. Feeling under-loved. Oh God. Time and time again love makes me uncomfortable. I have so much love for you, can't you even see?

I just need you tonight. To love. To live. To die.