I do not know how many souls I have.
Every moment I changed.
Continuously strange to me.
I’ve never seen or thought.
From being so, I have only soul.
Those who have souls are not calm.
Those who see are only what they see.
Who feels is not who it is.

Attentive to what I am and I see,
I turn to them and not me.
Every my dream or desire,
It is from what is born, not mine.
I am my own landscape,
I watch my passage,
Diverse, mobile and alone.
I do not know where I am.

Therefore, I am reading others,
like pages, my being.
What he does not foresee,
What he has forgotten.
I notice on the sidelines what I read
What I thought I felt.
Do I re-read and say, “Did I?”
God knows, because he wrote it.

– Fernando Pessoa –

I smoke your brand of cigarettes
And pray that you might give me a call
I lie around in bed all day just staring at the walls
Hanging round bars at night wishing I had never been born …

And no of course we can’t be friends
Not while I’m still so obsessed
I want to ask where I went wrong
But don’t say anything at all

It took a cup of coffee
to prove that you don’t love me

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=-zMFrF_pmr4
Garbage – Cup of coffee

To romanticize the world is to make us aware of the magic, mystery and wonder of the world; it is to educate the senses to see the ordinary as extraordinary, the familiar as strange, the mundane as sacred, the finite as infinite.
– Novalis –
Ph : Laura Makabresku