The Closeness That Separates Us

The Closeness That Separates Us - when feelings go beyond words 'We are already moving into a game and I am not sure I like the gaming part. The risk is too high fun however it might be. I want real life in all its aspects and yes also the risky ones. Games are just games. It's like fiction where you can try out things see if they work throw possibilities up into the air and see whatever falls down with a bump with a crash with a gentle landing with a bounce and what fl oats or flies around up there in the sky be it beautiful but out of reach or controlled from the ground by the artist. That's fine but unreal. My half-told stories my mediocre poems my indifferent blog scribblings can do that but I want real life and real-life risks when it seems worth running them. So show it to me your purgatory. Describe it. In a mail or a picture whatever you find fitting. Or not fitting at all. I want your words if they are real and I want to feel the person behind the words. So I am just saying: Keep feeding me mails keep tickling my mind. If you one day want to tickle my toes I am sure that can be negotiated too somehow somewhere somewhen. As long as it's real and not just words and thoughts and what if speculations and dreams. Those I have had plenty of just like you mention. Short-lived split-second things roaring by before they became unblurry. This is different. You are different. I like it.'