Poetic contribution

In the world bad news are good news
Not in mine.
I could say that my world is like the currency of _illusion

However, the certainty that there is a world abroad, and that I sometimes stumble upon it, I have

but it is not my world

or simpler still, I don't want it to be.

Of course there will be those who say: look at her, so evasive.
I don't really fucking care.

It's my negative positivity _{I know} speaking very quietly.

I write and curse, but if I verbalised it, it would come out like a _la-la-la.

And I'm a chronic swamp at times, _playing at being a mirror of water.

{although I have moments when the ocean is just a drop of my blood}

today, for example, it is.

And I run the risk of having an outburst, one of those of love.

Let's leave the outside world out of this talk.

Do you feel you can be here building your world?
Maybe not. Not everyone can.
And if you can, congratulations, that _{makes me happy.}

Sometimes we find a full belly, an empty heart.

And there is also a well-known phrase that says:

The hunger for love is much more difficult to remove than the hunger for bread. Mother Teresa

If you are willing to go where your flower lives
You must overcome your fear of heights

There will be no God to escort you

You will be alone
With your shadow.

He has a pile of books in a drawer, books he hasn't read. He has socks, shoes, clothes he doesn't wear... sometimes he curses, he threatens to throw everything away, but he can't find any real reason _{he says} to do so, it's not enough that they belong to him to be less than they would be far from there.

I haven't mastered the art of speaking, or writing, any art... I don't know what art really is. There is so much to _resist in the process of creating, and there are also things impossible to measure here. It's just a path _{like many.}