two people know each other. like each other. are interesting. spend time together. make people see things. and slowly the perverse power of winds between them. the interpersonal relationship of sentimental nature (god what an ugly word) becomes a relationship of power: sovereign / subject. the balance of forces must precisely indicate who is the strongest, who is the weaker, who is master, slave who, metaphorically: those who are below and who could also get cocks his (to understand). The war begins. micro-battles, punitive expeditions, kamikaze missions, no holds barred. most times a game, often becomes a downhill spiral in pain and sadism. but that's okay, if we all agree. and more often than we are. but sometimes not. in two, one wins a battle, win the next one another, but ultimately lose the war, both without corpses left bleeding on the grass, but warm bodies to which the heart was extirpated and perhaps in retrospect, allowed to roam automata as on land drained by the sense. the horizons shrivels up himself, and remains in the hands of a handful of words that have no real meaning, yet another arrow. looking for all the half, but I do not miss anything. I do not want anything. I do not try a half, I try one, as I am one. and then there are the worms that crawl on the ground, but I let them crawl.
lowercase after points are desired.
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