yes

Love doesn't arrive here with music from perfume commercials - it bursts into the house, tripping over the rug, and leaves footprints on the floor. First it saves, then it destroys, then it saves again - and strangely, it feels warmer because of it. Everything smells of heat, a little bit of smoke, and a kind of desperate honesty, when pain isn't hidden under metaphors but simply called "heat." It feels like your heart is being roasted over an open fire, but no one is trying to take it off the stove - because there is life in this pain. Light streams thru the dirty windows, and you want to believe, even for a moment, that there is truly salvation in this chaos and screaming. Or at least a meaning.