Now my friend , I teach you.

I am seventeen again. Your hair smells like honey and the first snow. My hardcore sounds lower and we are still keeping the silence. The routine beats off mercury in temples. We are changing seasons and tendencies, but you always stay in a fog. The breath is burning down the eyes. I will give away all the technologies of the world for your smile, but just tell me, when summer's over will you dream of spring...?

(...)

Rave is dead, and I think I like you. All our silly accidents met in the same place. My tea's gone cold for a long time and I order a double whisky. We've known each other for less then a week but I don't feel confused. I am intrigued. I've get used to be alone, but for this moment the fellings became interesting for me. You are so funny. I don't want to get drunk, just give me the hand. I already trust you, but don't believe in myself at all. I see no future, but I am ready to try. Nobody's guilty, we just have one headphones between two. I have to leave, I'll better go, and maybe I'll do it, but please, let's just spent this night together.

(...)

Last breath of a cigarette. Dead light and we go in blind, relying on ambient palpitations of hearts. Dissoluteness of views, unison of ideas. A call to war. It's still too far to the beginning and sticky fluid beauty is flowing round the neon ideals. It's just the ambition, just the feelings. Lightness. Expectation of sunrise is the only way to live before changes. It's the unreachable edge. It's the tart taste of life. It's the euphoria.