I Have To Deal With Passing Somehow. By Getting Older Every Year. With The Sure Knowledge That I Will

I have to deal with passing somehow. By getting older every year. With the sure knowledge that I will never shine like an angel again. No matter how hard I try, every attempt is hopeless - I can't stop time, I'll soon be a withered, rotten tree. Baudelaire's poem: Une Charogne reminds me, yes, that's how we end, so that's how I end… And I don't have the strength to accept this. …

Derrière les rochers une chienne inquiète Nous regardait d'un oeil fâché, Epiant le moment de reprendre au squelette Le morceau qu'elle avait lâché.

— Et pourtant vous serez semblable à cette ordure, À cette horrible infection, Etoile de mes yeux, soleil de ma nature, Vous, mon ange et ma passion!

Oui! telle vous serez, ô la reine des grâces, Apres les derniers sacrements, Quand vous irez, sous l'herbe et les floraisons grasses, Moisir parmi les ossements.

Alors, ô ma beauté! dites à la vermine Qui vous mangera de baisers, Que j'ai gardé la forme et l'essence divine De mes amours décomposés!

/Baudelaire: Une Charogne/ Detail

I think that when you feel such a strong shine within yourself, as if you are on the verge of enlightenment, and it manifests to you outside, that's when you see the angels. It is infinitely beautiful and also infinitely frightening when you are faced with the annihilation of yourself to move into a higher state. It's a moment, only to not come back to yourself for years afterwards. I've always been on the edge of life. I have never belonged to this world, but I have never dared to die in order to be reborn.

Summer

Now, this minute…

I was bad, they spanked me! (2010)

I really respect the way you put your words together and tell the truth about the aholes out there.

Thank you! I love to speak the truth!