I am afraid, that I am afraid. I act easier behind screens. I fall in love and I abstain. Exposure causes pain, in pain there is salvation. I am afraid to be redeemed. I feed my self with delusions. I stuff my self with toxicity. The definition of joy, implies self-punishment. We laugh. We are afraid. We wish our laughter to not bring revenge. The power of the opposites, the fear of good and bad in a questionable existence. We growl. A never ending battle in the field of self acceptance. Love was taught wrong. We no longer speak about being in love. We drink to forget. We drink to have fun. We eat sugar to get over sex. We use sex. Nonsense conversations. Silly relationships. We smoke to shit. We smoke to calm. Self punishment. Delight. Joy. Relief. Satisfaction. Silence. If I ever accept reality, will I stop trying? I adore the sound of the pencil running on paper. I adore the smell of fresh grinned coffee. A kiss on the forehead. A kiss on the lips. I adore making love. I adore suffering love. The morning face of someone, like a fresh dough. The shapes of the clouds. The hugs. I adore laughing. I adore talking. Thinking. Analyzing. I adore to be adored. I am having troubles sleep at night. I want to feel intimacy. Starting getting tired. to be tired, of being afraid.
Eleni is from Greece, living in Lisbon. Always searching, always creating.
Litehouse 