domingo, 6 de janeiro de 2013


You don’t understand, kid. We never get over anything. We only cry or frown our faces till time put other things in our minds. It’s not a question of letting go, it’s just a question of becoming invaded by the world over and over again, leaving less and less to remain. Every time you feel something, part of you goes away; every time you love someone, they take a bit of your heart and feed on it. It’s what we do. We feast on each other because we need to keep filling the holes left behind, and the silhouette formed by the parts taken are ourselves. We are defined by what we’ve lost; we are the void wanting to fill itself.