Into the Sea · nothing makes sense
Whatever you did that day made me fall and my landing was gentle and hard.
I have nothing to say these days and I guess I never really had anything to say. I wish I did. It would make for great conversation. But I guess I’m not much of a conversationalist. It wouldn’t be so bad if I looked like that mysterious, wild-eyed, quiet stranger everyone is fascinated by, but I’m not. I’m as deep as a puddle, and when you step in me, I am displaced. I am aloft, carried away from your flaming shoe. I am vapor, and for a moment I am raised up high and I seem to be deeper than I am.
Saturday, 11. November, 2006 · Insecurity