German is a very poetic language

"Und sterb' ich doch, so sterb' ich denn Durch sie, durch sie"
"And if I die, at least I die - for thee - for thee"

As I write this now, I am sitting in a mostly dark room, illuminated from the corner only, by a soft warm light.
I am half dreaming, as I listen to Beethoven's moonlight Sonata. I am at the corner of a street I have never been to in the darkest hour of the night, as snow starts to fall. The feeling of warmth is ever present. The Snow kissing my face as if angels are lightly blessing my presence, and urging me to stay.
Chalk and Charcoal cobbles lead me down dark and narrow passages. I mistake shadows for people lurking, only to find rags slowly blowing in the persistent wind, as I am gently being forced to follow this path the kisses are leading on.
I elegantly stumble around piles of bricks, and debris.
I climb a stone staircase that seems so grand in the broken surroundings.
My shoes beat on the each step. They seem to groan at the cold stone.
As I get to the top, a girl with bright red hair hands me a candle, and I join the crowd.
I walk
Mutual thoughts and feelings
I breath out a smoke filled breath
Not a word is spoken.
All I know, is that I belong there.



Mmm... right now I feel like I felt on halloween as a child. Smoke, and darkness playing with the shadows of my subconcious.
Today I have spent alone with my thoughs. The people I sat near on the train, letting their facial expressions acting as a mirror of who I am to them. I wonder if the depth of my thoughts comes across in my appearence. I wonder what picture of me they have made out of the pieces of me I have given them, to allow to work out who I actually am.

My eyes are dark. They are, as many have said, the window to the soul
to be alone. is to be yourself

Let me steal this moment from you.

Your Loving Friend

Philip Ludwig Van Mitchell