Doing everything they can,
just to be that one person

Don’t fade away.
Take of your trousers, shoes and blouse.
Make layers of your skin and soul, not with your scars or clothes.

Buy that one rotten onion.
Cut it in two pieces,
and look beyond the rotten core.

It will take you four seconds to draw it in.
But it’s not you who made the lines

Don’t be that random purposeless person,
break their ideals and breathe

Is it really the shell that’s protecting you?

Break it

Winter, Spring, Summer or Fall

If the snow isn’t bright enough to see through, the key won’t open the closet’s lock.
If the birds don’t sing loud enough it won’t break the closet’s lock
If you can’t smell the orchids good enough to make you happy, the key won’t fit into the closet’s lock.
If all the leaves will fall off the trees, they will block the keyhole and the door still won’t open.

All you need is the right time.
You really don’t need a key

The lady with the red hat, jumped in the well-known yellow cab.
The driver didn’t even turn his head.

He kept on driving for an hour,
for one second he turned

He looked at the woman and started laughing,
The woman who was doing her make-up, looked up and asked him what he was laughing about.
The man answered ‘I’m sorry, you’re all just that obvious, don’t you feel violated? Everybody can read you guys’

The woman ignored him and believed for an half hour that it just was another goofy guy, who doesn’t know what to do with himself.

Then they arrived.
The driver stopped behind two other cabs, when he was just turning in a roundabout. He jumped out of his car and let the lady out.

Now you choose, there are four different directions.
Each and every one of them leads you to enternity

Be sure it’s yours

Who is that man? I asked the four walls.
They were whispering all night long, about the extraordinairy man

Telling me he’s brilliant, he’s the man who can let the four walls live, talk and drink blood.  He’s the one who can make them go away.

Let me breathe, stop the slaughter.
It’s impossible.
You can’t stop yourself without talking to the four walls.

.. It’s the glory of the ride

It’s the curiousity of a soulsucker
When they whispered:

Does your marrow taste like the sweetest taste of a pineapple?

I had to give in

Cause my heart is sucking me to infinity
So bleed like you never did before
It’s not the darkside that is so malice

It’s you denying yourself

So stop searching for yourself
And just find you.

You are the truth, so you really want the absolute?
It’s not the outscreaming lie, that is saving you.
That beautiful reflection in the mirror has nothing to do with you.

You, are not wearing the red dress, you’re not happy.
What’s wrong with you, your frostbitten soul is melting.
Pick up your fountain pen and let it float.

Untill it touches that weird flower
Your scars are the world’s today.

Isn’t love that thing ..
That thing people call magic?

Is it true that ‘trust’ is the only thing you have to believe in?

Trust him, that he won’t hurt you
Trust him, that he won’t cheat on you
Trust him, so you know that his true love is meant for you
                              only you

Forget about that

The only that has to matter
Is that you trust yourself

Trust yourself to believe in things
Things that can be impossible
What’s life without impossible things?

                                                           Dream
                    Dream about you beating Mr. popeye while he just ate spinach
                                   about arguing with the stars that broke the moon

                                                             Live

Hmm, maybe I should’ve waited.
No. If  I’d waited I’d be home by seven!
Well if you had waited, you’d have been fully rested when you’d gotten home.

Attention peope, we’re going to crash in five minutes.
We’ve got nothing to do about it, call your loved ones and pray.

                                            Work together people

                        Would the real neutral person please sit down

              |?|?                                                                                     |?|

Mrs, You, Ms, You                                                                    You, Mr, Miss

                                         Now both sides are equal

                    That was the last thing, I heard the wise man say

                                                      Was it me who filled that empty paper, with ink?
                                     Was it the sun or the water that made the plant grow?
     That footstep in the sand, does it belong to you, or that thing behind you?

Was it your hand that touched my cheeck when I cried?

Thanks to you & me, nature, my shadow, your hand

                                               We are