At a certain point in time in every man’s life, there comes this moment when starring at his much loved one, he thinks or merely mutters this title words to her – you’re cold as ice. The time freezes and all the ice blocks of the sea of love are colliding with the poor guy’s one-nanosecond-ago-titanic-male ego, now taking cold water through all his inlets. It’s like the end of the world as he knew it and in a quantum profound way, it actually is. He’ll never love again like that. He has to adapt to the new bleak reality as after someone’s death. He will suffer and search for rescue that most likely will come from patch-work fucks probably he himself hurting some really nice people in the process.
And the good news are more to come. Because these are truly good news. For him, for the mankind, for her. That iceberg? Such astonishing wonder of nature, with the seen and especially the unseen part, meant to restore the natural order of life (his life, her life). Those frozen waters of her eyes, arms, thighs, cunt? A singularity in a man’s lifetime’s flow which is quintessential for his mindfulness.
And what is more to come out from these inevitable facts of our lives?!
From the depths of the sea, a new story reaches up to you, a story crystal-clear wet and ready to be taken. Back.