Sonntag, 7. Februar 2010


as if the flickers would spread an uninvented class of colour in the air, as if someones arms would be stretched by this flame of sphere, as if the pages would smell of a paring of an apple, of a red one, which doesnt mean that the red ones taste better than the green ones, not at all, its about their smell, as if the keys of a red synthesizer would control the fingers over them as a magnet, as if no words would be needed at this moment, as if even the last pig would realise this moment and just shout up.. if any word gets the strength to disturb this time, please fill it with the power of the song "sonnet" of sir ashcroft, maybe he will hate me for calling him like this, anyway, i just dont wanna press the so-called backspacekey and return ..

so shout your gob, unless you feel the energy in your word.. then.. break the silence!

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