guilt-ridden; oblivion rides.

About Me

*he cannot remember---
who he is and who he is not.
he is a class of his own.

he likes art and the arts;
he likes wires, sewing, drawing, making presents and gifts.

drop him/me a message in the ask box, only if you wish.
i love you only because
the clockwork of humanity is the cloaked work of insanity;

c a u t i o n: the contents of this blog might not be suitable for minors below the age of mental maturity because everything said here is to be taken with much consideration and the author of this blog will bear no responsibility for audience's discomfort if the content invokes visual or moral disparity with the audience's own beliefs.

when silence
fills the crevices wherein
orioles lay to sing the morning
in their craggy nests, warm
with the crack of dawn shattered
into a gazillion shards through the canopy
in stains of colours, dappling
the faces in a glow
of love

when
and only when
you are quiet beside the still
awakening forest, forever
waiting for eternity, whispering
this be plutonic love

and it is
exploding extremely
silently