That night… Just two souls made of peat and smoke, talking like no one else is listening. Because they aren’t. This one’s slower.
Bluesy piano, like it’s drunk too. No rush. No promises. Just…the truth sliding out of the speaker, warm as the last sip.
Tomorrow can wait. Tonight, it’s just Whiskey Talk.
At least it seemed like we could breathe..
I’m not rebellious—I’m just can’t be like everyone else
I think I can have a life without a ring, without a promise, without ever hearing last forever or fairy tale..
I mean, I think I can have smt in middle.
And honestly? Maybe forever’s overrated.
Why marry when you can just…park the Ferrari next to his, share a cigar, then drive home alone.. and that’s perfect to me tbh
No paperwork. No heartbreak. Just two people who decided share time was worth it.
I have so much time in this world to see almost everything.
My philosophy says:
“Labels are for bottles, not people. And I’m too damn good for a cork.”
Bfs? Gfs? There are many of those, and honestly, I get bored of titles easily… you just can’t build a cage for my mind.. I want a soul, never to bind it.
Love? If exist, it’s the equivalent of being free… why? Because it’s only real when you choose from a place of freedom.
I always want—if someone comes along— for them to challenge me to a race, light the cigar, run it—each of us alone—and realize no one broke anything.
Because nothing was on offer in the first place.
I’ve already outrun the heartbreak.
I just realized my brain runs too fast for anyone to notice.
So now I’m going slow, sip it slower 🥃
Letting the burn stay in my mouth—like a secret I refuse to tell.
If it knocks me sideways, just…breathe through it.
Strong things don’t get easier—they get familiar. And pretty soon, I am the one doing the knocking.
Here, I never ask for attention—I don’t need it… but my expertise, that I can share 😉
If smt doesn’t happen w a potential factor, it goes straight to the archive—bc it’s a variable that will never produce a result, never become a ‘1’ 😉
So yea… There’s always a deadline for everything.
I register absence as MYSTERY, not as loss.
And mystery is my fav drug… but not an eternal vice—
that’s what I’m here for 🃏
My filter? Haha—my capacity filters on its own, without effort.
I’m simple, and at the same time I’m deeper than your thoughts— you don’t owe me explanations, and I don’t owe anyone drama.
I don’t blame anyone who criticizes me; they criticize me from their own perspective, not from my reality.
It’s the classic mechanism of envy: minimizing what they cannot achieve.
So yea… maybe I’m the cold monster in many stories..
And at least with me, the bite’s consensual.
The saddest compliment their small minds can give is to admit, without saying it, that what they see seems too perfect to be human.
I rise wild from my own sin… as if that exist 😮💨
“Bruce… I would – I would love to live with you in your castle… forever, just like in a fairy tale…”
“I just couldn’t live with myself, so don’t pretend this is a happy ending!”
—Catwoman.
Bye now! 🧛🏻♀️💋
