Last year, I did something special.
Whatever you knew you did well, or whatever you felt good about — you can call that special.
This simply occurred.
It unfolded.
I wasn’t even aware it was something.
Like footsteps,
I was just going nowhere.
And I looked—
at where I stepped,
where I had gone.
Please—have a look.
Just look.
It was just me, painting pictures.
Nothing special about it.
There are contradictions
in how I see things.
These are where I put them.
Some grew.
They marked.
They stayed in me.
Read, and see me.
But don’t follow my words.
I don’t even have time
to think about it.
It was just moments after moments.
Some carried my flesh,
some pain,
some nonsense.
I don’t need to explain.
It’s just a window.
How I saw things.
The weight of the pull—
some of it is light.
But I don’t trust me.
I just trust my gut.
So don’t believe me, too.
Just have a look.
We’ll see together.
