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Find a guy who calls you beautiful instead of hot, who calls you back when you hang up on him, who will lie under the stars and listen to your heartbeat, or will stay awake just to watch you sleep… wait for the boy who kisses your forehead, who wants to show you off to the world when you are in sweats, who holds your hand in front of his friends, who thinks you’ re just as pretty without makeup on. One who is constantly reminding you of how much he cares and how lucky he is to have YOU… The one who turns to his friends and says, thats her…

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LOVE: We think about it, Sing about it, Dream about it && Loose sleep worrying about it. When we don’t know we have it, we search for it. When we discover it, we don’t know what to do with it. When we have it, we fear loosing it. It is the constant source of pleasure and pain. But we don’t know which it will be from one moment to the next. It is a short word, easy to spell, difficult to define && IMPOSSIBLE to live without.

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What can the love in my soul be compared to another wonderful soul which is so far and yet so close of my self?
What can this symbiosis between two souls can be?
What can love be when you feel you cannot sleep at night, that every drop of dew becomes a crystal in your heart, when every breeze of wind has magical meanings?
What can love be when you feel that you want nothing more in this world that to be with the soul you love?
But what can love be in other transcendental realities? What about our souls?
Are our souls a waterfall, a true Niagara or a smile, a flirt of an angel? Are our souls a mere mood of a fairy or a lightening in a summer rain?
Our souls could be all of this and much more. But what really happens in that transcendental reality when we feel we are truly in love, that we love so much that it hurts? That the air in the room is unbreathable, that the sentimental, spiritual or physical distances kill us? What happens when dawn find us sadder than ever, looking for an excuse or an argument for the person we love so much, our Great Love? What are all thses? What are the looks lost in the desert horizons of unfulfilment or those in the eyes that deeply loose each other in the others inside the souls?

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Do not cry, because we are destiny, because we are everything that can be above this world. And now, the angel of my life, please let me fly so that I can fulfil the vanity of this world, of this dream, of this nightmare that eternally took you from me.
I didn’t thought you will come now at this age and time of this Illusion of Life, but between these bars I tell you how much I love you and do not ever doubt me.
I will be yours in every moment of this life, which I give to you. .

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Madame, it is an old word and each one takes it new and wears it out himself. It is a word that fills with meaning as a bladder with air and the meaning goes out of it as quickly. It may be punctured as a bladder is punctured and patched and blown up again and if you have not had it does not exist for you. All people talk of it, but those who have had it are marked by it, and I would not wish to speak of it further since of all things it is the most ridiculous to talk of and only fools go through it many times.

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