Open eyes

Diazepam is my new best friend. makes me feel loose and chill...makes me forget what I did last night, makes me feel all relaxed and desirable when alone in between the sheets. I snuggle myself in my own warmth under my blanket...pink. My blanket is pink...all my blankets were pink. Except for one. That one was red. And oh...how many tears have filled it, and how many orgasms I sweated in it, and how many opium dreams I have had under it's protective warmth. All my adolescence was in there...my drunken nights, my withdrawals, my hopes, my happy dreams and nightmares...everything.
But that blanket was probably set on fire. I wouldn't want it anyway...contaminated with something else but my Golden Age. 
I will find a new trinket to fill with my energies. My new energies, my strong self. 
I like my new universe. Filled with pixels, poems, drawings, nightlife...my best friend beside me, we're out at night doing our best to troll people. In every way possible. Fucking up their routers, their accounts, their cables or cars. Loads of fun lay in the dark. 
We mostly walk the same old streets but somehow, they seem new to me every time. 
"Shall we get a coffee?"
"Sure, my love."

We laugh and dance and we're higher than ever. Our voices rise in the night scaring the living shit out of cats or passers by. 

Hackers? A major threat. LOL.

The art of orgasming is not in sex, but in the scene, the air, the feeling, the touch. The kiss.

Sun shines over our faces much too soon. 

It's time to go back inside and sleep, for a new night awaits...