faces and I'm too anxious

Little small tiny and quick portrait for today. 

No name, no particular point, just playing with the cuteness of simplicity.  

(needs a bit of editing that is never to be done, most boring thing ever)

Aaaand a video full of sounds and images that I absolutely love. 

 Too much of talent for one piece!

Now something unrelated.
It's crazy how much it is about faces.
You just pick the face you like to look at. For some subtle and gentle time when the desire to see it grows inside you, nothing more frightening can be possibly imagined. But it overcomes that little huge earthquake a single gaze does to your world, overcomes all the motion of blood rushing right to your own face to blur your eyes, scream in your ears and press your insides against something so big it just can't fit in a human being without driving it insane. But it does, and then you become your eyes. A walking sensor. Without looking, you pick up every move, every direction, every expression of the desired face. Now you want to be in front of it. You find yourself in places you wouldn't normally be doing things you wouldn't normally do. All of your gestures are crying for help, all of your sounds are flouncing in the air, directed towards just one point in space, as if some magical magnetic forces were sucking them up, turning into millions of regrets, why did I say that, why, no, seriously, what's wrong with me?
Oh but later you are going to remember that time as the best your faces used to have. Or you won't. Give it some time anyway.
You want that face to look at you, to see you. Then to see only you. Inevitably.
You will do things and say things and do things again, just to see that face responding to what you are up to, you will make it laugh to see it's only you who makes it laugh, and you will hurt it to make sure you are the one who can do it. And the tears you will see are yours, you made them, you own them, you've made such a long way to this point. This is kind of hunger; it's addiction, full dependence. The best and the worst to ever happen and to disappear one day, just as nonchalantly walking out of the door as it once walked in and messed everything up. Leaving just painful relief.

Iiiiiiii don't know.

How do people ever feel brave enough to try to put this shit in words?
Anyway, anyone, talk to me anytime.
Love you ALL (like seriously ALL okay.)