I write seven days a week, starting at 4 o'clock in the morning, including Christmas.
I have to be alone very often. I'd be quite happy if I spent from Saturday night until Monday morning alone in my apartment. That's how I refuel.
Maybe we're just falling stars, we once danced in the same skyline looking down at the world. And we've fallen like all others, from near and far, we've gathered together, but separated by time and sp...
The sky blue strengthens slowly, the dawn light rosy and pale the summer song of our romance begin to unveil...with every heart beat and the waves' breath...the time stood in harmony still. Your morni...
I hear you in the morning sun.
Die every night so in the morning you are reborn.
You wake up in the morning, then go for a jog, pump up the dumb-bell, and take a shower! Put on fresh and clean clothes and get out of your apartment fast! The day is yours for the taking! Carpe Diem!
Our mornings were never "rise and shine." They were "rise and fight." They were loud and ravaging. They were heavy and unnerving, like the after-math of a war, with unresolved territorial disputes. Th...
Just one caress became a symphony of passion, insatiable longing, an unquenchable desire to possess.... Gasps... The sparkling touch, embrace make hard to breathe... A mere short burst of brilliance,...
Would it be such a terrible thing for us to fall in love? he asked.
It's a finger snapping kind of day.