There is this cold in the air. No one else seems to notice it, except him.
Wearing shorts and loose shirts they pass hem by while he is dressed in boots, jeans and high white collars. All buttoned up.

A gust of wind makes him shudder and tightens up his spine, whilst he crosses his arms gently and elegantly.

He stares into the horizon and his looks betrays his memories of brighter and warmer times.

Happier times!

I'm growing up so fast it doesn't give me enough time to exploit every minute.
I think about this while I push my car to its limits on the German Autobahn. I fly from lane to lane in same fluidity with which my thoughts unravel.

My thoughts keep on unravelling, I can't keep track where they're travelling.

"When you look at me like this, I go all weak" She whispers "Weak in a good way"

"I just look at you saying 'I love you' with my eyes" He answers.

"No, I know THAT look. This isn't that look" She states firm and confident "This is a look which says......." and she whispers the rest in his ear as she rests her head upon his shoulder and places her hand on his chest.

There it comes...a week after it all happenned.
I stand in front of the mirror and watch my wound heal. I slowly peel off the dried out skin from my face to reveal the new me.
I like this version of me.

I get up in the midsummer and watch the sun rise with a fresh cup of tea. Put on some jeans and a shirt with my black boots on. My boots are worn out and repaired a dozen times and look real bad but they make me feel right at home!

I take my rings and my watch, my necklace and my bracelet and put them on. They make me feel confident.

I finish up my tea and the piece of cake I got from the cabinet before I changed. I put my cup in the sink with the spoon still in it. I can never enjoy a cup of tea fully unless the spoon is still in the cup while I'm drinking it.

I get a hold of my long coat, even though I know I will not need it I still drape it over my arm as I get my keys out of its pocket. I pick up my phone and my wallet from the table next to my bed.

Walk out the door, just shut the door behind me, not locking it.

As I step outside I hear the birds tsjirp and the flowers bloom. A perfume overwhelms me with the sensation that life is never gonna be any better than this moment right now.

I get in my car, lock the door. Put my phone in the holder, select my music while I open the glove compartiment and get my sunglasses. I put them on while the music slowly fades in to my world.

Now I am invincible! Once I put on my shades there is a new me. An improved version of me. A greater person than I could ever be on my own. This is the me the world knows.

I turn on the ignition, drive away. Never to come back again!

----
This is the day I long for for almost 10 years now. Hoping for this day to come is sometimes the only thing that keeps me going. Hope this day comes soon!!

Her eyes radiate sadness like a dying sun
Her touch as cold as a freshly dug grave

She panics when he looks away
and says: "I cried when you left me stray"
sighs and continues: "Now it's your turn!"
to gloom it is his turn

"What does this mean?" he asks
"It's up to you" she says

She said to me she never wanted me to close my eyes when we kissed. So that she could see them twinkle and change colour in tune with our passion.
I thought to myself it was a part of her ludacrisity and lunacy but she meant it!

I live where it is day and where it is night.
Where the sun never sets and the moon never slips into leisure.
I am where I call home.

I have this awkward feeling of loneliness. It is weird as I have so many people around me who care and share. There is this void in all of this that cannot be described by mere words nor it can be depicted by my photography. As if it is not meant to be shared with the outside world it resides in the deepest darkest corner of my being.
As a kid I was afraid of the dark and did everything to avoid it. But these days I adore darkness for its simplicity and for its secrecy. It is my most true friend of them all.

Moving parts in rubbing contact require lubrication to avoid excessive wear. Honorifics and formal politeness provide lubrication where people rub together. Often the very young, the untraveled, the naïve, the unsophisticated deplore these formalities as "empty", "meaningless" or "dishonest" and scorn to use them. No matter how "pure" their motives, they thereby throw sand into machinery that does not work too well at best.

--Robert A. Heinlein - Time Enough For Love