January 8:

I was, carefully arranged, with all those little half truths, half lies, illusions and faded,rusted thoughts, which sit, almost like crippled old men in their armchairs - waiting, drooling, hoping for a conclusion. A dream, then, among all this, comes, and sets everything on fire - the blanket of forceful peace - is unrobed and therein lies my naked self - un-arranged, deranged - full of just one truth, one thought, one dream - you. The fire spreads