Pity for the whole world now. I wasn’t enough suffering. And when I’m in, the little things become sun. They shine in my direction and they are so strong and they are so meaningful and they are so blue and noticing them is my tragedy.
I can feel the smooth wind hurting my face, why are you so gentle? You are joy of sadness, my simple need to cry out all the thorns inside, to exorcise shadows, to forget the wounds, even if they are not cured. Because when I’m in there is a grieving unknown, I can smell her, and I can see her, and I become so desperate, and I take her for me, and I like her for a moment. Then I regret it.
I feel different now, I feel repelled, I feel blind, deaf and mute. I just feel us
I pity the whole world now, I pity her
I have to leave it for a while because I’ve just forgot the wounds. For how long?

05/2011