Anyway, somebody asphyxiated when they shouldn’t have, a heart exploded, in heartbreaking agony, when the love was still beautiful, and the smile lived, existed, and dreamt in each and everyone of us.

You still believe in me, I said to those who were still my lovers despite everything. In the midst of a corpses, a lovemaking session occurred. The corpses were as soft as pillows and as beautiful as flowers, but they were dead bodies, ruptured from the inside out, and the love was the thing that we shared in our tongues, with our eyes, and with our words.

What is going to happen with those things we don’t understand?, one of my lovers asked as if I knew all the answers, as if I could resolve the strange happenings around us with the simple act of my words, as if my prayers worked in any way, as if those who lived around me actually loved me, and were not actually using me.

I want you all to understand something, I said, and though I wanted to say it, I didn’t say what I wanted. Instead, I ran away so I could think on my own, about my own mortality, and about all the things I had lost, some dear to me, but most of them repugnant to me.

Did I miss them, did I miss the point of my own life, and my own love, or have I found something even more worthless to worry about? But in between days and nights, there was something in me that was being born, a light like no other that was both beautiful and terrifying, the absolute feeling of desperation, an inescapable wanting that defined all logic. If I could leave all my lovers, if I could leave my life, if I could escape the trappings of all the words and thoughts that I was constantly being bombarded with, I could be free in a way that made sense, away from the wrath of others.

This way, our love will be shared amongst the stars, I said when I came back, and in all the corpses there, all the people who lived and laughed and thought with me, there was not a single doubt. They all trusted me and they all thought that my happiness would be theirs.

What would be of us, if we share our love with yours, which is so infinite?, one of my lovers asked, but I laughed as those smiles tended to be the most genuine, even if the laughter was a product of a total act of depressing existential dread.

You escape and leave me alone, understand that your relationship with me has doomed you to a lifetime of completely undermining yourselves, not even being sure of what love feels like, I said but nobody understood what I meant or even what I was talking about. The chains between us, which we called sessions of warmth and beauty, were not to be broken, and our relationships on top of a dozens dead bodies were not to be interrupted, they wouldn’t let them in their hearts, and when I finally went to be myself, nobody did not love me anymore.

I like to write for some reason so I’m doing it here. I’ll try write something every day, and hopefully, get better at it.