Lines point in opposite directions.
Slamming those sharp waves as I enter the belly of the beast.
There they are.
Wild beasts of the night.
Creepers woken up by a loud yearning.
History repeats itself in my ears.
Those dejavus don’t count.
Tribal signs prepare you for a drop.
You brake in two.
You keep on shattering until there’s no more of you.
Dissolved within the opaque rooms of the underground.
Don’t tell anybody about this.
This is a secret.
I know it’s not easy to rid yourself of the past and make the future bright. Living off moments is damn hard and it’s a lot harder if there’s only a few of them.
- From a Letter to a Girl after We broke up
It’s Friday, almost 6 o’clock. The down pour forced everyone to hide inside the mall. There are a few loaners at the bus stop plus a mother with kids. I catch a glimpse of a harmless-looking fellow with the corner of my eye. His moves are somewhat erratic. He digs through his backpack and whips out a plastic cup filled with vodka. Downs it without blink of an eye. Pulls out a bottle of Fanta, takes a few gulps to rid himself of the wretched stink of cheap liquor and repeats this until the bus arrives. He gets on, quickly blends in and gets off after a few stops. Nobody noticed. Nobody cared. This is the only recollection he got from that faithful Friday.
There’s a wonderful breeze coming into this room. Softener from freshly washed clothes fills it with its sweetness. Add freshly assembled wooden furniture to the mix. Music playing in the background. Dim light illuminating the space. If you can imagine all this then you know where I am. Where are you?