10 days with Renate

bless the beasts

and the children

cuando el agua no es azul, de Irene Moray

http://irenemoray.blogspot.com/

summeralism

polaroids sacadas por irene moray
http://irenemoray.blogspot.com/

Wednesday, 22 June 2011

who is madeleine?

he woke me up giving me a book called bonjour tristesse. he doesn't even know he seduced me doing that.
then i put on my high heels of prostitute and took some pictures.
i watched vertigo a few days ago and i'm obsessed with it. i've been thinking about it all the time since then i listen to this over and over


and i just came to the conclusion of what hitchcock is telling us. love doesn't exist at all. what we understand for love is just an imaginary idea. it's as crazy as truly beautiful. love is just an image in our head, it's not even a material thing, it's not a living person but a dead one, green and inanimate, a bizarre and dark feeling we dream of all the time. we never see madeleine. who is her? we'll never know. we fall in love of ghosts who vanish. our mistake is wanting to keep them for us.

lost images

for lost boys

like cutting onion without crying

behind the glass

girls, mirrors

todo lo que tengo dentro

VOS LÈVRES SUR LE POINT DE SE TOUCHER C'EST MON COEUR SUR LE POINT D'EXPLOSER

I feel beautiful

i'm so happy i met you. and i'm keeping happy for after a year and a half without seeing us, even considering the relative short period of time we had (but long and intense enough to know well each other) everything is on its place between you and me. love and affection, dreams and hopes, fears and tears, all those abstract things I'd like to talk about but I gotta say not many could understand, at least as the way I expect. The land of desire is still burning and screaming out to us, Pure love is our way. I feel beautiful with you, because you let me be myself.
You little and creepy cute godness...