Lottie

“she’s a perfect mess,
with a young heart,
and an old soul.
a beautiful disaster,
a masterpiece of words.
chaos within tragedy.
art in the shades of poetry,
a flawless masterpiece,
so perfectly damn good.”
― Ventum

“It had lasted no more than four days—four days which were perhaps the happiest days of his life. But now he had exhausted his memories, was sated by them, and the image of Mary, together with that of the old dying poet, now remained in the house of ghosts, which itself was already a memory.
Other than that image no Mary existed, nor could exist.”
― Vladimir Nabokov, Mary

“Love was her nature 

and that’s why the sun 

sets behind her smile,
t
hat’s why her eyes
drown entire oceans,

that’s why her laughter

calms the rain,

when her love pours

and heals all the pain,

when storms, winds

whisper her name,

when touching her lips

feels like a hurricane.

she makes broken

bloom in her light,

she’s the sun to

my dark nights,

she’s nature, wild and free,

loving her, is healing me.”
― Ventum

“The masters according to Nietzsche are the untimely, those who create, who destroy in order to create, not to preserve. Nietzsche says that under the huge earth-shattering events are tiny silent events, which he likens to the creation of new worlds: there once again you see the presence of the poetic under the historical.”
― Gilles Deleuze, Desert Islands: And Other Texts, 1953-1974