Poetic Allusions · Un P'tit Je Ne Sais Quoi

I don't know, — means, — I don't bother to find out. I'm not able to, — means, — I'm too lazy to look for a solution. I don't understand, — means, — It's hard to think all by myself. I'm a negative kind, — means, — I don't care enough. (but) When "would want" becomes, — want! When the "should" becomes, — have to! When "first and then" becomes, — now! Then — and only then, — your wish will operate in full to come true.

... But if you love and just need to have desires  let these be your desires: To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night. To know the pain of too much tenderness. To be wounded by your own understanding of love; And to bleed willingly and joyfully. To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving; To rest at the noon hour and meditate love's ecstasy; To return home to eventide with gratitude; And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.

  « to help you find the girl you aim,  she loves sugar...  she loves kisses, she loves hazard  as Alice, she takes a pill,  as a ghost, she haunts the field,  in the steam, her finger draws  something smiling, I do not know...  tick-tock, tick-tock, the end is near,  when winter comes, she disappears...  one means two, boy, don't miss the train,  you are warned, you, not to blame,  red, yellow, blue,  a dancing girl in front of you,  another thing you cannot see  read the book and follow me »  ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ « – so, what's your name? — •••• – what's your favorite color? — blue – so, if you're frenglishly off and you won't tell me  where are you going anyway  to some weird country, I'll still find you — you will never find me – that's what you think? — yes! – you can change your hair,  you can change your eyes,  you can change your nose,  i'll still find you — you ...

predictably, always remains few things behind, hid deep at base of your quintessence; something not so courteously, but decent to stir you to want torture yourself, — u devil u

i wonder what agitates me like that… [should be your thought, – probably] probably to caress you in whispers, inked charming by my soul's scripts scripts that accelerate your cadence at a superior state of the awakening awakening, gamed with varied visions as if you'd love me‥ as if i'd love you [...too] — [...too]

…take illusions seriously, Mon Cheri; somehow, you ideated me so, [but see], in what part of me, you forged your mind, it's one of your memory from a future with which I'm living at this moment and for which it is not necessary to be judged... or justifying myself...

few rendered hypotheses, in music, are beautifying you as you are, as if it's a subtle whisper of mine to you; so listen to it in friendly mannerism thru the windmills of your mind, ok? i swear that's chic… (ma parole…!)

If you have  Nothing , then you have  Everything ,  because you have the freedom to do  Anything ,  without the fear of losing  Something ...

An image is wandering thru a story, having as landscape a dreamy realm insurmountable. I'm getting caught in the drunkenness of the pictures, colors, and sounds, while various fishes are breaking the water mirror, making the water-lilies dance bathed in the sun. The multicolor birds chirp for the fishermen. I guess that even J.Y. Cousteau could've been losing the notion of time, and could've been murmuring, if he was here, finding out, amazed, like you, right now, that my home is on the delta.