Naked arms are secrets still like songs I'll never learn.

   "There are times that walk from you." That's how the song goes if someone knows that song at all.

   "There things that drift away," those days that seemed so endless but yet were so numbered, so final, no definitively coming to an end

   These people that fade away are so those that enter my life for such brief moments in which in these few seconds, hours or just days these people impact one's life so strongly, so suddenly so absolutely. These impacts bring broken hearts, broken expectations, broken promises and weak fake ideas only real inside someone's head.

   My memories are blurry, I haven't forgotten a thing but they're not in the right order; the way she so lightly walked almost as if with wings on her ankles, the specific way she entwined her hand with mine and how the ugliest things could seem so very beautiful in her eyes.

   She's gone as each and every one of them, so far yet never far enough for someone to consider... steal her away, forget the world the same way she made me forget it for all this time. Satisfy desires, satisfy this dormant necessity, and satisfy this long dormant function to function.

   Damn this world; damn how big it has to be; damn Americans...

   Stuck in the exact same place I started this whole journey 8 years ago, It's embarrassing to say the least how I keep falling in the same expected hole, same one I dug for myself so long ago is still here never covering itself knowing that sooner or later I'll come back and fall comfortably inside. That's exactly where I am right now. Cheers to that.

   Cheers to homicide, I've apparently killed more people than I can count.