love lives in your navel

Glad like a Grand ball to be first danced.

Laughed like the trickle of water that wets you there where you do not expect!

Walked miles and miles far away from home and did what was not done before in that same old cemented road of gloom.

stripped of nakedness up metal stairs running for our lives escaping our death

trembled like when it was cut that cord which you think that you cannot live without.

Returned from what was cut and after years it does not hurt anymore.

The navel that connects you to life. The navel destined to cut your habit of first water breaths.

Cut but it does not hurt anymore, the navel of earth has shifted center of heart...

The navel that now is tickled only by your heart. The navel that does not hurt anymore.

Because I have learnt to breathe. Because I have learnt to live outside the womb that left me alone.

Because I have cut the cord of surviving on my own.

when you 're playing with desire you can easily get on my fire...

I have never been amazed about how a song can actually inspire you.

Because it can, because words can, because love happens, because chords inside get struck.

I have been amazed about how people may affect a chord inside you and cause you the most negative energy. They have such an effect that they change your syntax from impersonal to personal. But there is always a catch in the catch that you throw to trap others.

too too soon... it is not all that.... because that is what writing is about... put the other across your screen... through your screen... the certainty that the energized power within me is dangling out is ha... certain

You have a choice... you can either "get stupid" and do what that one tells you you should do to get the money.. the carrot has been thrown and will you catch?

The time to throw the carrot for that one who tells others what to do... has come...

It will be hard, it will be devastating but if we are afraid now what good is it to live and not feel...you might as well be dead...

So throw your own carrot to your own dictator...

Dictating used to be fun... let us make it again what it used to be...

ours...