Who would have thought that wanting to do something is underrated?
I have found a word to describe the country - he said with a low volume as the noises of the metro diluted the sound of his voice. Uninspiring. What do you think? -he asked. I smirked. I felt tired, my eyes sore from the lack of rest and the looking at the computer all day that day. I like it - I said. Sam was right. What a character, one can find in this sort of place. In this shit-show as they say. Then he said he enjoyed the conversation. He said enjoyed. Then I ask, whether he was no longer enjoying it. He said, well now we're just chit chatting aren't we? I asked him if he regretted, fucking up, as he said he had done. He said, well I guess I've fucked many things up in my life, I must have a couple regrets. I asked if he had any tattoos as I thought about the classic "no ragrets" reference. He explained where the reference came from. He ended by saying, I guess I know my pop culture, don't I?. One of the very few honest conversations I've had in a while. In this country, especially. He must be in his late forties this guy and he can still have this sort of conversation. I mean, there's not necessarily an age for this sort of thing but I mean. He is impressive. Who would've known? Good-bye Baltimore, his composition, I wish I could hear it. I wish I could remember. I remember when he showed it to me, I didn't know I'd treasure this moment.
So much of what we don't know.
I spoke about love today, as it happens, to my lover. I told him love is like the stars, you can spend 100 days or more without even looking at them, without even thinking they are there. But if one night you want to see them, you just need to go out and look. They'll be as extraordinary as ever, if not even more.
I think i have succeeded for the first time a real good flavored curry. A vegan one. And I'm sorry if it sounds mundane, and it will, but I'm fucking proud of myself. For the curry and for the rest. For the conversation with Sam that was just another conversation of two people in the metro, it meant nothing, but for an instant it meant something, something important like all other things, as important. As important. Of being still here I'm proud. I read these words quite recently: No to death sentence but yes to the right to suicide. Respectful, but I don't have all of the context. It's in Giselle Halimi's book. "Farouche liberté".
I want to be a writer. Some people come late to this conclusion, I guess one could say I'm relatively late, but in this case, it is never too late, is it? It's my calling. I really want to do it, although maybe tomorrow this might change. Also, I can train making longer sentences, as the one I'm doing now, for instance, making them last for lines and lines, maybe pages, perhaps. I can also read. I can make short sentences, so much I can do.
And the curry is ready, don't get me wrong, I want to develop, I will. You don't know how tired I feel. But it's a blessing, as it is a curse. I though this today: life is miserable. People spend a third of their life working. Another third doing meaningless things. And the other third doing even less meaningless things. At the same time it is a blessing, but is it not a curse? That it is both?
Lastly, if you're reading this darling, I want to tell you that I love you, like I love the fresh air coming from the outside through my open window on a June evening in... this country. I love you like the song that's playing (Dans les rues de Paris, Nicolas Godin). Somewhere, for sure. It's crazy to say it but unanimous. Somewhere, someone, is listening to this song, and I love you so.
Cheers to all, and thanks to Sam, for the only genuine exchange of all in the Metro in this country. In thins uninspiring country. This inspired me to remember, I'm alive, I exist and I can write about it. About it all.
origamiaround
andulkaphoto
pixelskylines
snowghoul
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