The-Free-Pens

*INT. DORMS - NIGHT A man and a woman in their mid-twenties, half-naked and a bit drunk are fooling around. It’s their first time in bed. There is awkwardness in the air. Suddenly, the woman pushes the man away and backs off at the right corner of the bed. She stands there motionless for a bit, her eyes on the floor. The man looks at her puzzled. She takes a deep breath and…                              WOMAN                              (Confessionary)                              You’re a good guy. I can’t do                              this to you…                              (beat)        

Sometimes it seems that life gets satisfaction on making our existences troubled. Or it's just that we are too troubled to find a real satisfaction from life. However, the point is that we often are forced to cross situations that we wouldn't want to cross, and every time we ask ourselves: who is to blame? But, even trying all our best, we won't find the answer, cause - many times - the responsible collimates with someone we would never suspect! Sebastian is peacefully sleeping in his cardboard box, surrounded by a surreal silence. A luminous light from outside, filters among the half opened flaps of the box entrance, making him waking up. T

Since the beginning of Life, all Members of every family have protected one another. The only explanation for this strange behavior is Love. Our form of affections is an imitation of the true Feelings in Mother Earth. Nature ties Her soul into our own, bringing everything together. But our Mother knew that she could not keep us all together. Back in time, the Family was tiny, and we all Lived in unity on the same ground, tied To the same culture. Today, there is another Time, when the Family has grown to gigantic proportions, truly Just spread among a larger land, which is just as Loved. We cringe at the same pain, and we Love Wi

En équilibre sur le mur, Je ne me lamente pas. De chaque côté je vois l'azur, Loin, au-delà des combats. Je touche la pierre chaude qui s'effrite, Et trace du doigt le signe de paix. A travers les cris lourds et déchirants, Les rafales, et les bombes aveuglantes, Personne n'entend le bruit sourd du petit bec pointu. Qui cogne. A l'intérieur de l’œuf. Dans le nid. Sur le mur. Qui cogne. Qui cogne. Qui cogne. Il faut se battre, c'est vrai, pour naître. Et puis aussi, parfois, pour garder la vie. Si tu réussis, petit faucon, à sortir enfin, Vole, vole, vole au loin.

stay with me, break my heart I don't care if it hurts when you leave,      that is when I am nothing my aching teeth, my eyes that turn inward to cease the treacherous day the shadows take me in on blind faith they too know abandon they aren't afraid like I am avoiding that good night like field mice I am crying blood I am the Rape of Nanking I am desolate, a one wing bird as reasonable as a babe neck-broken from the nest