I was alone thinking I was just fine

I wasn’t looking for anyone to be mine

I thought love was just a fabrication

A train that wouldn’t stop at my station

Home, alone, that was my consignment

Solitary confinement

So when we met I was skirting around you

I didn’t know I was looking for love

Until I found you …

A thousand stars came into my system

I never knew how much I had missed them

Slap on the map of my heart you landed

I was coy but you made me candid

And now the planets circle around you

I didn’t know I was looking for love

Until I found you …

So we built from here with love the foundation

In a world of tears, one consolation …

And if you left I would be two-foot small

And every tear would be a waterfall

Soundless, boundless, I surround you …

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=Xaz3uAoFfr0

There’s an opposite to déjà vu. They call it jamais vu. It’s when you meet the same people or visit places, again and again, but each time is the first. Everybody is always a stranger. Nothing is ever familiar.

– Chuck Palahniuk – Choke

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=eynirIPRf9U&persist_app=1&app=m

Sara Hartman – Stranger in a Room

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Nothing is original. Steal from anywhere that resonates with inspiration or fuels your imagination. Devour old films, new films, music, books, paintings, photographs, poems, dreams, random conversations, architecture, bridges, street signs, trees, clouds, bodies of water, light and shadows. Select only things to steal from that speak directly to your soul. If you do this, your work (and theft) will be authentic. Authenticity is invaluable; originality is non-existent. And don’t bother concealing your thievery – celebrate it if you feel like it. In any case, always remember what Jean-Luc Godard said: “It’s not where you take things from – it’s where you take them to.“

– Jim Jarmusch –

Ph : Tom Munro

I am a creature of the Fey

Prepare to give your soul away

My spell is passion and it is art

My song can bind a human heart

And if you chance to know my face

My hold shall be your last embrace.

I shall be thy lover…

– Heather Alexander –

“ So blue is a name? ”

“ It is a word. Words are pale shadows of forgotten names. As names have power, words have power. Words can light fires in the minds of men. Words can wring tears from the hardest hearts. There are seven words that will make a person love you. There are ten words that will break a strong man’s will. But a word is nothing but a painting of a fire. A name is the fire itself. ”

“ Using words to talk of words is like using a pencil to draw a picture of itself, on itself. Impossible. Confusing. Frustrating. ”

He lifted his hands high above his head as if stretching for the sky. “ But there are other ways to understanding ! ” he shouted, laughing like a child. He threw both arms to the cloudless arch of sky above us, still laughing. “ Look ! ” he shouted tilting his head back. “ Blue ! Blue ! Blue ! ”

– Patrick Rothfuss – The Name of the Wind

You were born on a moving train.

And even though it feels like you’re standing still,

time is sweeping past you, right where you sit.

But once in a while you look up,

and actually feel the inertia,

and watch as the present turns into a memory

—as if some future you is already looking back on it.

Dès Vu.

– John Koenig –

Ph : Albert Finch