Doom's Day Diary - Day 21

So here we are, at the end of letting you have a peek-a-boo in my inner and not so inner life.

Thanks to all who stopped by and thanks to those who were afraid to read, too.

This end of the year will tell if 2013 will be a nightmarish one or a whatever one.

It is totally your choice.

You know what you have to do.

I have nothing to lose anymore.

And I am prepared, both for nightmares or for whatever.

If there had been a device to erase the memories, I would have chosen to use it without blinking.

And everybody would have been happy.

But there is no such thing.

In other news, I wish you all wisdom and genuine people in your life.

From today on, light started to get its power back.

And darkness will cringe.

It is again your choice.

To stay with the dark, or walk away with more light in your eyes.

Doom's Day Diary - Day 20

Do you know how it is to go and have your breasts stretched as if they were chewing-gum?

Do you know how it is to wait for a mammography result, while you are all alone?

Nobody by your side, nobody outside, nobody at home?

Can you even imagine the hollow feeling and the thick fear?

Can you picture a clinic as cold and as empty as a stadium in winter?

While people are running outside with gifts and colored wrapping paper?

The desperate moment when the doctor calls you inside.

And all you can do is keeping tight your mobile in your hand.

As a crutch.

Well, I have a wish for those who have hurt me on purpose, and without any proper reason these last 2 months.

I don't wish them a disease. Nope.

I wish them to feel the same one day. I wish them the same pain and loneliness.

For couple of moments.

And that day may they remember me.

Blessed be.

P.S. All the other daily events faded to the point of nothingness compared to this one. Now do you understand why I don't give a cockroach on you or some other low life?

P.P.S. I have developed a thing for cockroaches lately. They are disgusting and fascinating ugly. I used to be afraid of them. Not anymore. 

Doom's Day Diary - Day 19

Nostalgia hit from the very first hour in the morning.

The magic brought by night travels through the world of possibilities.

The passionate kiss.

The dream with the missing trains.

Even better the dream with the plane flying to New York, while I wanted to go into an opposite direction.

Freud would have called me a perfect subject for interpretations.

Forgetting irremediably about my eyes check appointment.

Like seriously. So thanks.

Turning off all the distractions and working like a maniac.

The joy, peace and relief of talking to my spectacular man.

Follow. Unfollow.

The burden of solid rock sadness.

For a second I thought tears dried out.

Nope.

Acknowledging the loss of some kilos.

Not impressed.

Fearing January darkness.

Doom's Day Diary - Day 18

Peak of nausea. Sartre would have been proud of me.

When evil is not around, waters are calmer, though boiling deep down.

Cringing at lack of time.

The rising pressure of Christmas holidays.

Each second passing by... an effort similar to the ones I believe only a woman in labor can experience.

When you feel that your entire body collapses, but you are screaming for life.

Doing something out of nothing.

Educating.

People getting even more insane.

Shutting down the engines of anger.

Ignoring the world problems. And not because I don't care. But because I can't anymore.

I have become a ball of pain hiding inside my own bigger ball of pain. A "mise en abime" torment.

Loss outbursts and tearing in the corners.

Unseen.

Invisible.

"Cinematic" fantasies.

The made promise shall be kept.

Amen.

Doom's Day Diary - Special Edition

Today I am not going to talk about myself.

Today I am going to give credit to the most spectacular man I have ever met.

Today I am going to say thank you to the man who has always kept his promises.

To the man who has always spoken to me in facts, and not in words.

I know he is reading my blog from time time.

I know he will recognize himself and I hope he will smile.

We met in special circumstances and this is how our relationship has stayed for more than a decade: special.

He saw me in my strong moments, but also in my weak ones.

He saw me beautiful and not so beautiful.

He watched over me, without judging. Instead he was guiding me with his silence and his deeds.

We don't talk much nowadays, but when we do, each and every word has heaviness.

He is the rock, which never asks for anything in return.

He is the only one who "fixed" things for me, exactly at the right moment.

Because he believed in me from day 1. Unconditional.

Because I believed in him from day 1. Also unconditional.

Because he is exactly how a man should be. Strong, objective, but also sensitive and deep.

Because he is the only one who can look into my eyes, while shameful and hurtful tears are shed.

And because he knows how to smile and tell me without words that everything will be just fine.

Because he cares. Genuinely.

And because he has always known to accept my love and respect with the elegance of a gentleman.

I look up to him. I will always do. Because he is really a Man.

Thank you, Angel.

Doom's Day Diary - Day 16

Again one of those dreams where I could touch you.

Where you were waiting for me.

And only me and you know how incredibly well you master the waiting.

If my connection with you hadn't been that strong, most probably I would have remained in the dream.

Life though, more specifically the phone, pulled me off paradise.

I thanked to my sisters in nature who listened to my plea.

Because a plea coming from a pure heart always finds its way to our ancestors.

Filing official complaints.

Pizza and green salad.

The mask.

My best friend's reassuring words. Her sarcasm and understanding, in spite of calling me crazy for accepting this crappy situation.

For showing too much understanding.

"Burn down the mother fuckers. Who cares about the mess you will swim in? I will be here with you all the way."

Molding the hatred into love for myself and for the one who died.

Filling the emptiness with more emptiness.

I understood that the world as I knew was no more.

Adapting.

Doom's Day Diary - Day 15

Not even 10 days have passed since I told you one of the possible options: let me imagine you died.

Outraged, you asked me: how can you think of such an extreme solution? Can't we be just friends?

Couple of days later, who was the extreme exterminator?

Without even having a decent, polite good-bye?

Just because you were threatened?

If you consider yourself tough, why don't you tell your friends, your family and the world what you did?

I give you this chance. By the end of December.

And you will spare me of the effort.

Trying my new blender.

Awesomeness.

I unfriended  you several days back. It wasn't enough.

You blocked me. AGAIN without a proper Social Media reason.

This time I will file an official complaint.

I do not accept cheap and hurting gestures imposed by a total stranger, who better takes some spelling classes.

As a matter of fact, ANY classes.

The countdown began.

Doom's Day Diary - Day 14

Last night dream was a peaceful one up to a point. Showered in a dark mysterious green light.

The first lines I saw in my daily 5 minutes morning coffee reading:

"The dream was green, Bran, and the green dreams never lie."

What do I encounter when turning on my laptop?

Blinding green neon.

This is when I understood why the dream turned into a nightmare, once the ugly appendix came into the picture.

I remembered how I cried for your loss couple of years ago in December.

Far away from you, helpless I could not be there to support you.

What did you do this December?

The so called religion was just a facade.

Or too weak to temper the grossly disgusting demands.

One day of work washed away because I forgot to save anything.

Do you want to keep these auto-saved documents?

I clicked No.

Because the shock sinking in cancelled even the most elementary functions of my intelligence.

Thank you.

For this and also for the permanent nausea.

I appreciate your gifts so much that I really want to repay you equally if not more.

Appalled with the increasing quantity of evilness that surrounds you.

But I admire the sleekness and the strangling force.

Do you know that some female cockroaches only mate once and stay pregnant for life?

Doom's Day Diary - Day 13

The lack of minimum human decency continues.

F***ing awesome!

So for this I was thinking of the best curse ever.

May you remember me every day for the rest of your life.

While I can talk about you, you will not be able to.

As you are in a willingly chosen cage.

The striking thing of the day was the ugliness. I mean shit ugly.

No make up or gold or diamonds could hide it.

The next item on the list: the lie which blinded everybody.

It hurts, isn't it?

It should.

The knots of hatred are growing in number.

The still uncleaned mess you created and the consequences that will come.

Grinning.

Sickness.

The moment when you realize the liberating power of unrestricted anger.

The face to face discussion with a person who sees the sparkling light in you.

Wow moment.

Red Christmas apron with white fur.

Blocking without mercy.

Mourning your death.

Everything starts now.

Be prepared for the past ghosts and skeletons.

Doom's Day Diary - Day 12

Today we will keep a moment of silence for the ones who chose to "kill" themselves.

PS. Forgive them Father cause they don't know what they are doing. And if they did know, show them the right way. And if they still do it, then forget about them.

One cannot fight stupidity. Not even God. 

Doom's Day Diary - Day 11

Throwing up for one hour straight. You sick f**k.

The amount of snow outside is unbearable.

Dragging myself to the doctor.

Decided to tell mom the whole story.

Her curse is way stronger than mine.

Your today jokes and your lack of minimum decency will turn into your nightmare.

Soon.

The plumber did it this time. After scratching his head for one hour.

It's warm inside.

It helps with my permanent shaking.

Choosing black clothes for tomorrow. One cannot mourn in pink, right?

Common friends still entertaining the Mimosa Pudica? OUT.

When they see with whom they are dealing, they will understand.

My plant died over night. So did my soul.

I have nothing to lose anymore.

Watching over your shoulder?

You better.

Doom's Day Diary - Day 10

The most heartbreaking day of my life.

Again not because of me, you or the insane, painful and mind-blowing situation.

But for WHAT.

This is my only reproach.

A fatal one.

I wish you all the happiness in the world.

As I am a person who keeps her promises.

Doom's Day Diary - Day 9

The first thing you lay your eyes in the morning will set your mood, too.

I miss us. This is an undeniable fact.

Always will.

Talking about magic moments.

Reading through several books.

Nothing gripping.

Music and a rediscovered pleasure even if for a short time.

A steady nausea feeling, as I worry.

Only this time, I refuse the empathy wave, as I am not strong enough.

More insight about the grieving mistress. Images that would make a movie a hit.

The story of the mice hidden in the shoes.

The never-ending snow outside.

Looking for the inner light, but failing. Too many dark blankets cover it.

Tired of fighting and thinking objectively.

Fringe.

Doom's Day Diary - Day 8

Expectations. Lack of expectations.

To be or not to be.

Swirling around and forcing myself to be.

The questionable coincidence of suffering the same pain, in the same place as my dead.

Are you listening?

Pills didn't work, so I had to do what I had to do.

Biting cold.

Broken zip. Too late to come back.

Freezing, but kept going.

Blending with the crowds.

Lost among books and perfumes. For what? Or for whom?

People talking to me just to meet my empty eyes.

I didn't understand a word.

Collapsed bridges.

Indifference and hollowness.

Loss.

One more hatred knot.

Subdued pain.

Conclusion? Don't believe in coincidences. It's all coming from evil forces.

And evil forces don't go away with pills or I am OK thoughts.

They need to be fought back with even darker forces.

Doom's Day Diary - Day 7

A hysterical person from first hour in the morning.

Trying to get rid of the black dog image in my dream. Kicking its teeth with so much hatred.

Unexpected call of support just to be told that I am loved.

Heart still running around in the chaos of pitch blackness.

Life still goes on as if nothing happened.

Discovering new gmail options.

The psychology of the Dark Passenger.

My favorite taxi driver picking me up from the bus station and giving me a ride home.

Free of charge.

His genuine question: How is pappa?

Yogurt cakes.

Blinding white.

Stating what I want and I will never get.

Squeezing even more stuff for an insane busy week to come.

No news from my best friend.

Mom trying to dig into my distress and absentmindedness.

More tears shoved deep down.

Brownish hair color.

Too serious for dramatic changes.

But the blonde is on its way.

Doom's Day Diary - Day 6

Commedia dell arte was an exaggerated and too elegant term.

Cheap circus for others to enjoy and gossip about is more appropriate.

2-3 hours of staring, while taming the new wave of anger.

Discussing the meaning of death rituals.

To bring order to the chaos created.

To deal better with the angst.

Men who still know how to compliment in good old fashion style.

Appreciation.

Conspiracy signs.

The advantages of having a technical background, too.

More precisely to know that a machine is not just a machine.

To assess the risks in a bigger perspective.

People looking up to me for a change.

The unimaginable pain of a mistress who cannot see one more time her dead lover before the funeral.

The knots.

Vous etes malade?

Ugly hand-writing.

Empty postal box.

So late for everything.

The change of heart just a very bad illusion.

Doom's Day Diary - Day 5

An ugly day like never before.

A chain of confusing and hurtful messages.

A discussion that ripped off my heart, my mind and my soul.

The constant presence of the stabbing pain.

Oceans of tears.

As if the loss feeling wasn't enough, bang, the news of a death.

Supporting my best friend going through the ordeal.

From the distance.

Hating even more the place I am in.

Loyalty and love still washing away the past several days frustrations and anger.

Life is short acknowledgement kicking in.

More stabbing pain.

The bridge.

Empathy.

Commedia dell arte happenings. Sad ones.

And not happy at all.

Snow.

Trying to find the friendship way. Is it possible without burning myself in the process?

Keeping tears under strict control while talking to mom.

Dad finally sounded normal after 3 nightmarish months.

He even wanted to go shopping.  

Doom's Day Diary - Day 4

The yesterday later never came.

Just a sordid and unconvincing excuse.

When the dawn was cracking the sky and I was fumigating the room.

The black hen which was trying to steal what was mine ended up in a cage.

The nightmare turned into a dream with white high-heeled pumps and lots of colorful gems.

The landlord is back, so is the plumber. Next week.

Discovering I can handle myself in making appointments in my not so cool German.

GIFT equals POISON. This was the perfect candy.

The pain in the middle of the brain spinning and screwing my eyeballs.

Giggling when reading most stupid stuff ever.

Invisible to many.

A warm country possibly no longer just a dream.

An opening.

Still waiting based on the last shreds of respect.

Love is just a theory. And a very bad one.

Doom's Day Diary - Day 3

Snow. And snow. And more snow.

Reports. And reports. And more reports.

Fixing up my agenda to squeeze a doctor appointment as well.

Whimsical, mind-blowing and sexy discussions with my landlord about... heaters. (sic!)

Networking. In office.

Unfollowing.

Showing signs of trust by accepting to share a part of my humiliations.

Talking with dad about wine.

Pretending.

Avoiding to answer mom's question if something bad happened. For the 4th day in a row.

This woman has such an intuition.

Ignoring.

Taming down the anger.

Waiting for later.

Doom's Day Diary - Day 2

Cold day has risen from a sleepless night.

The silence of the depleted trees.

Dead phone.

The stingy heaviness of my left breast shows no improvement.

Folding laundry in mechanical moves.

Furious exchange of e-mails.

People going on with their lives.

Hating all the Christmas updates.

Still candies and chocolates.

The pain inside my brain, behind the eyes.

Torturous blinking.

No sign of justice.

The second knot of hate.

Doom's Day Diary - Day 1

Silence.

And more silence.

Black clouds and biting frost.

A call from which I don't remember anything.

The coffee machine grinding and spitting the hot liquid.

A forced sms.

Emptiness.

More anger.

More venom.

Strands of hair turning white. Penetrating easily the black color shampoo.

The pains in the left breast.

Candies and chocolates falling and exploding.

Cooking in the virtual world.

TV show episodes chaining one after another.

Seeds and milk and cigarettes and the urge to delete everything.

Shame

Remember this day. As one of the most shameful days of your entire life.

The day when you did something so grotesque, that the dictionary doesn't even include a word to describe the situation.

The day when the displayed behavior is phony. As if nothing happened, though we know better the truth.

The day when you stepped on a human being, mercilessly.

And it's not about what you did. And it's not even about how you did it. But for what.

The day when even the curses died, as, shocked as they were, couldn't find their way to the lips.

The shame that marked your being today is so shining in dark hues, it is so hurtful, and so huge, that it makes me cry.

It makes me cry for who you were and what you became in one single day.

The day when the shame burned your flesh and my soul in one go.

Remember this day. Because it gave you the ugliest scar. And you will walk with it on your forehead for the rest of your life.

Hiding it in plain sight.

The Miracles Doers

We didn't ask them to bring us into this sometimes ugly world. But they did hope the best for us.

We did not always listen to their words and advises. But they kept talking to us even when we did not pay attention.

We forgot to call them or when we did we dispatched them with the speed of an express letter. But they kept waiting eagerly to hear our voice even when our lips were too busy sharing words with strangers.

We disliked their old views and their desire to see us growing like them. But they did not give up on us, when we failed and fell.

We outraged when they commented on our relationships. But they understood when our hearts were broken and they didn't judge us.

We no longer remember to play with them. But they will smile and their eyes will shine if out of the blue we will jump in their bed as we used to do when we were children.

We no longer cry in front of them when we are hurt. But they will know when we do and they will keep their tears hidden and instead they will cook food for us or they will pester us with silly questions.

The frown on our forehead, even when invisible, touches their heart in ways only known and felt by parents.

It is a terrible grumpy, cloudy and rainy day here. I called my dad who is in the hospital, thousands of kilometers away from me, and talked to him. At the end of the conversation, he told me:
"Look, don't worry, I will send you a piece of sun from here. Catch it."

Believe it or not, exactly one minute later the rain stopped, the skies split and a blinding sun poured thousands of warm rays on my window. I guess parents are the Gods of this world and the miracles doers.

Love them more. Now.

Strangers

On tonight #55wordstory theme.

“What a cleavage!“
„What dark eyes!“

“Your round knees make my knees melt!”
“Your restless fingers make me gulp!”

“I wanna lick that drop of sweat!”
“I wanna jump in your lap!”

“Be mine!”
“Take me!”

The two strangers in the train compartment had no idea their thoughts had already started to make passionate love.

The new normal...until it lasts

I wake up, as always, not welcoming the sunshine, but the bitterness in my soul.

You already have breakfast chit-chatting with whoever is around.

I crawl to my coffee machine with an empty look.

You surf the Internet and laugh about the latest posts on Facebook.

I smoke my lungs out, trying to decide if I stare at the walls or do the laundry.

You take a bath and groom yourself.

I move from the living to the bedroom, standing still near the bed.

You turn on your ipod and leave your home.

I keep staying near the empty bad.

You walk with enthusiasm and happiness is flowing from every step you make.

I go to the bathroom to watch myself into the mirror. Too ugly a vision.

You smile and your heart is beating faster.

I come back into the living and check my emails. I wish I could call my mom, but I can't.

You take the train and your smile is even bigger. 

I go into the small kitchen and make myself smaller in a corner on the cold tiles.

You arrive at the destination and your body and soul are in peaceful harmony.

I manage to stand up and search for another corner to hide and find a reason to breath.

Your entire being is now reacting with thrills when seeing the object of your desire.

I finally let out a mute cry that could break all the glass in the world.

You make love and forget about anything.

I repeat the process.

You keep having fun.  

Regrets

This is not about you loving me as much as I love you.
This is not about me giving everything, while you refraining from giving back.
This is not about me fighting with the world, while you waiting for a "fitting" life.
This is not about me crawling from one day to another, while you watching with pity.
This is not about me coming to a dead end, while you choosing among several paths.
This is not about me bleeding for the rest of my life, while you walking smiling.
This is about the small moments you stubbornly refused to give. Not to me. To us.

I shall never be able to arrange the collar of your shirt.
I shall never be able to make you a tea during the cold nights.
I shall never feel your hand helping me to jump over a puddle on a rainy day.
I shall never be able to watch you from the bathroom door, while you are shaving.
I shall never feel the ticking of your heart, while you are taking a nap.
I shall never hear you smacking your lips, while you are eating the food I cooked for you.
I shall never throw the slippers after you for leaving them in the middle of the room.
I shall never see you smiling, while I am doing my funny faces.
I shall never feel the the sand and the waves of the ocean together with you.
I shall never share a chocolate with you.
I shall never run after you because you forgot your earphones.
I shall never steal the remote control just to have your attention.
I shall never be able to buy you a beer on my way home.
I shall never be able to smell your perfume in the morning and roll my eyes with pleasure.
I shall never be able to be by your side, when life sucks.
I shall never have my tears wiped by your fingers.

Regrets that will always live in my heart and will tear me apart.

Scream

This is my take in tonight #55wordstory project initiated by @vivekisms some time ago and presented by me in a previous post. Enjoy and judge it. :D


Tongue felt cold and hot in the same time.

Lips were shining oily with sweetness.

Throat was singing with moans of pleasure.

Suddenly the buttery cornucopia got smaller.

Greed had just emptied it.

Last drops were slowly sliding down the valley.

I screamed.

My dress had been ice-creamed.

Have you been X-Filed yet?

Why would anybody in 2012 would write about a TV series that started to be broadcasted in 1993 and finished 10 years ago? Maybe because in the last episode the most awesome villain in a TV series, The Smoking Man, speaks about 22nd December 2012 as being the start of alien colonization? Or maybe because all the other TV shows and even movies made after that year got their inspiration from this pool of magnificent topics episode after episode?

I have re-watched lately in a slow rhythm all 9 seasons and though in the market there are other productions with super technology involved, I must say, X-Files has no similar counterpart. Its unique atmosphere and the background red thread story (the mother of the mothers of conspiracies) still resists the test of time. I am writing this post for Fringe fans for example, for Eureka fans, for Matrix fans, for the young generations who have no clue who Scully and Mulder are.

I don't believe that there is an untouched weird, bizarre or paranormal subject out there not being depicted by this series. You can find everything in it: alien abductions, brainwashing, shape-shifters, man-beasts, lake monsters,  ghosts, spirits, artificial intelligence, clones, wicked kids, pyrokinetics, lycantrophy, serial killers, reincarnation, subliminal messages, killer bugs, spontaneous combustion, fetishists (oh boy, Donnie Pfaster is one of the creepiest psychos ever. :D :D), voodoo, horse men, alligator men, Navajo codes, hackers (the Lone Gunmen are the first true geeks in the history of TV, amazing and delightful guys), religious killings, the butterfly effect, men without mouths and eyes (no, this was not a Matrix invention, sorry), genetic mutants...you name it!

And though it is quite difficult to choose from so much epicness in one place, here are my all time favorite episodes.
-Irresistible (season 2) - starring the above mentioned fetishist (painted nails and cut fingers came from X-Files dearest Dexter fans).  
-Musings of a Cigarette Smoking Man (season 4) - wanna know who killed JFK? :)
-Never Again (season 4) - where you meet the sexiest speaking tattoo. Voice-Jodie Foster. Enough said.
-Small Potatoes (season 4) - the dream of any man. :D
-Unusual Suspects (season 5) - when we finally find out how Mulder met the Lone Gunmen in 1989; priceless tech fairy, with pre-historical computers and stuff. :D
-The Post Modern Prometheus (season 5) - the most sensible episode of all; when we see who the real monsters are and where Cher plays an important part of the story. :)
-Chinga (season 5) - with a creepy doll. "I want to play" will haunt you many days after watching it. No wonder. Stephen King wrote the script. :D
-Bad Blood (season 5) - about vampires. 50 minutes of non-stop laughing.
-Triangle (season 6) - shot in Hitchcock style, it is a jewel. I would add time travel, second world war, and Bermuda Triangle.
-How The Ghosts Stole Christmas (season 6) - a haunted house on Christmas night, only 4 characters. Stairs that disappear, opening doors and getting into the same room, over and over again. You got the idea. :)
-Arcadia (season 6) - for the fun of seeing Mulder and Scully impersonating a married couple.
-Orison (season 7) - because the nail fetishist is back. :D

If you are a fan of the X-Files, please drop me a line and tell me what is your favorite episode. I would really love to find out what actually ticked for other people. Thanks a lot for reading. :)

The end of stories?

This is the post dedicated to everybody who dropped by and read my stories.

I started writing them 2 months ago as a personal therapy option. In the process great things happened, great comments I received, much love and appreciation I felt. And I am grateful to each and everyone of you who spent parts of their precious time to visit this blog and read.

Unfortunately, the magic that helped me "survived" all this time faded in the last couple of weeks, and writing became a pain catalyst. Therefore, the stories will end for now here. It is not an easy decision and I hope you will understand me.

If by any chance, though I stopped to believe in miracles long time ago, faith decides to give me that bit of happiness that helps people keep going with a smile on their face, I shall be back.

But at present, there is no crossroad ahead and no light at the end of the tunnel.

Thank you.

An oath of allegiance

If you fall, I turn into a small mushroom
So you can watch me in the eyes
And let you feed from me the strength you need.

If you fly too high in the sky, I turn into an eagle
So you can avoid the cunning perils
And let you find the way back to Earth.

If you burn, I turn into a crystal clear river
So you can heal your wounds
And let you quench the scorching thirst.

If you laugh, I turn into your lips corner
So you can taste the purest of joy
And let you know I will always be there.

Acceptance

Giving they say
is having a bit of God in yourself.
Giving they say
is writing your soul with heavenly letters.
Giving they say
is crushing your mind for others sake.
Giving they say
is rewarding the nature with balance.
Giving they say
is breaking the spells and bad omen.
Giving they say
is stepping mercilessly on your ego.
Giving they say
is enlightening your shadowed spirit.
Giving they say
is bringing sun into the blackest of sorrows.
Giving they say
is soothing the troubled and clouded souls.

Receiving instead is just a piece of science fiction story,
And this poet here has never met such a tremendous glory.

What is mine is mine...

This is a short post written as a challenge proposed by @69fubar (a central theme and 100 words max). His lollipop version can be found here http://fubar69.blogspot.com/2012/02/crunch.html

His soft spot had always been the lollipop, but not the one with lots of sugar and pinky ingredients. His favorite looked like a batton made of white and dark chocolate. He had hundreds of them at home, neatly arranged in drawers for all possible occasions. The thief knew everything about his weakness, and waited patiently. That November cold and silent night, she sneaked inside, emptied all the drawers and left with a huge revenge smile on her lips. What she would never find out was the fact that he actually slept with the most precious lollipop under his pillow.

My love...unfinished cathedral

When I see the blue in the sky,
I know my love will never die.

When I see the grime on the stone,
I know my love is for you to own.

The spike in the middle will always be a riddle
Until the missing tower will play on the same fiddle.