we’re not supposed to be lovers

last night. soho. kasbah restaurant. the interior of that place made me feel as i were back in dubai. couscous, hummus and pita bread. a glass of red wine. stories from around the world, stories from a living room, stories from a little village. goats, sheep and cows. comparison of bratislava to dubai in terms of hours needed to get there. incorrect, but still fitting. i was thinking of dubai today more than i have in the last two months and i realized that i could actually live there during the cooler months, why not. and so on.

i saw my favorite greek boy while walking down the stairs. he said hi sara with a strange, focused glow in his eyes. he never says hi. i never see him. he never acknowledges me. i never look at him. changes.

it’s nine o’clock. it’s dark out. as it always is. time is the only constant thing in this world. here it flies by faster than anywhere else. maybe it’s because we’re closer to the sun each morning than the rest of the world. metaphors. one-liners. i’m still reading bright shiny morning. i am taking my time with this book. i want to absorb every single word, remember every expression, every face and its character. i wish to walk down the venice beach and experience the beauty and the pain myself. relative words, relative meanings. my mind went blank. nothing.

the glow of his eyes follows me everywhere.