What I am looking for


(The Wanderer above the Mists by Caspar David Friedrich, 1817-1818)


Empty spaces to be oneself... Empty shelters with no noises, no trouble nor judgements around... Empty spaces to find the holly ways hidden under forbidden bodies, the true sense of desire, the meaningful search of the equal, the beat of a wild heart in that empty silence... Empty spaces to fill with the open landscapes of the soul and the unwastable demand from skin, flesh and hunger... I'm still looking for those empty lands where infinite fountains of honey and hope, as the ingredients for my very instant of happiness, can always source from the mouths of angels playing free far above those glory spaces.

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