i’m alone but my mind is not. it is only now that i am able to see that. that i am able to understand. i’m thinking of all the female characters i’ve ever created and written down. to some extent they are the perfect reflection of me. i keep describing and explaining my life and myself in different forms on paper because i don’t know how to do it differently. i feel as if talking is not my way of communication. because then it takes too long for people to get me, to know me. to learn something about me and i don’t really have the time. me and my thoughts, people and their bullshit.
i need to re-read heavier than heaven. it’s been too long. i can hardly recall its beauty anymore. the rose, the heart-shaped boxes, the words. they are fading away and all that’s left is the music. his name is on my shoes but i give it no importance. everything shapes me up everything leaves a mark. i’m right out there but i’m hiding. pieces of me are hanging in the air because i thought i was being brave. i said i had no expectations but i lied. you always do.
silence almost feels like torture.
and here comes the privilege of going to bed whenever i want to.
it’s been too long. i’ve forgotten the meaning of these words here. i am planning on changing the concept. structure. i don’t know something. it doesn’t suit my thoughts anymore. through not writing i always realize how much i can change in a month. it’s been more than that. i’m looking for something bigger and greater. i’m writing. i’m expanding. but this is not enough.
i wrote a letter and i forgot to burn it. i sent the words out there. i fell in love, i wrote the piece. and now it’s painfully hanging in the air. soon it will fall heavily onto the ground. back to reality. dust and dry leaves will cover the meaning and my initial intention will be forgotten. four minutes and thirty six seconds that’s all it took.
i am in need of changes. of a refreshment. of something. in a way i am still stuck. even though vietnam gave me a lot. new experiences new perspectives. poverty and simplicity of life we know nothing about. i promised myself to complain less but do i actually complain? what’s the true definition of a definition? i remember the smile and the sunglasses. tears in heaven has a completely new meaning for me. i’m drinking something else now.
my thoughts are elsewhere. words are missing. it seems i only write eleven months.
it’s been 15 years.