Sometimes I see signs
of the start of a new season;
a lonesome migratory bird
that’s soon joined by its swarm,
a brief sun ray
that initiates the melting of the frost
that’s settled on all surfaces detectable,
or the freshly green head
of a wood-anemone
soon to pop open
to free its white flower

These moments
are normally passageways
to a different season’s beginning,
these are in usual cases
the events that crack
the surface of the ice open,
resulting in a spider web like pattern
But the temperature stays the same
and the sun stays in its same position,
with its transition to darkness
at 14:22 every day

By this time I’ve already been awake
for more than eight hours,
a full work day for some
It’s unimportant
how I spend these hours,
it really differs,
but all I can tell
is that the cold keeps me
preoccupied

I like being outside
when it’s still daylight
I don’t live
in a barn or anything,
nor do I have my own garden,
but I enjoy the public parks
that are within walking distance
from my flat
The little greens cheer me up
in so many ways
Whenever I feel alone
it does the trick
to just wander around,
pretty cluelessly
Just like a freshly brewed
cup of coffee
it removes that thin visor
from my vision,
that sometimes has made me feel
like an astronaut
on planet earth

After some loops around the park area
I seek out a bench
and close my eyes
to pretend it’s spring
Spring in the city
I used to think that if I could document all sensations in a given moment, I would later on be able to travel back to that place in my mind. Close my eyes to the present and open them to the past. I memorized the temperature, the nuances of the season, the height from which I was looking, dimensions, proportions and held this as a piece of evidence.

all that is called world is ungraspable

you cannot retouch it

you need to erase it

to rebuild it

I had warned her before
they could turn visitors like myself
into prisoners
they could give her a role
in their horror fiction
they could turn her into
a mere piece of furniture
in their living room
they were not on the outside,
trying to break in
instead they proliferated by cultivating
a seductive habitat
for their services
Inviting us to join them

All of their fixation on feedback,
I’d tell her,
is just a false negotiation of space
you just have to keep moving,
beating out a path with your own hands

She liked being my material
to help construct my
breathing organism;
a different system
At 14:22
I make myself tea
from some of the leaves
I’ve managed to keep dry
between the pages of a book
I wrap a blanket
around my legs
and I sit down
in my ergonomically friendly chair
to write

Little did I know
that turning the shape of my torso
into the letter “S''
would have such an impact
At the present moment
I’m a firm believer
of keeping a position
where your head is straight,
your eyes are focused,
and your jaw is relaxed
You know
whenever my jaw is clenched
I’m reminded
I’m trying too hard,
including being too forceful
with these routines
That can really make me feel
like an extra
in my own life

Sometimes I just feel
secondary to the plot
That I’m the kind of person
who resides in the peripheries
of any bystander’s
attention span

Actors,
they’re not there
to merely mimic
natural expression
and plausible scenarios
they act to create tension,
to tie a thin rope down your throat,
and gently pull up your intestines
one by one to lay them out
on display for you

But recently
I’ve come to learn
that I am necessary
to a greater plot

At 14:30
I start my writing session,
just like a pianist
who dexterously spends hours
warming up her fingers
through repeating scales
and memorizing the work
of other composers,
computing apprehension to detail
I’ve learned that
14.30 is the exact time
when I’m well able
to veer into my own work

In my writings
I like to revisit places
and situations
In the past year
these places have become more
tantalizing
They’ve been coated
with a pungent flavor
hard to really place my finger on
I know
that the voice
speaking to me
is leading me through
imaginary landscapes
for a purpose
that is not mine
The memories aren’t mine
but I lend her stories
from my life

There is not much conversation
between us,
it’s an intuitive act
and therefore it’s crucial
that I start at the exact same hour
every day,
one that I’ve come to know
as a playful and light hour

I’m unsure whether her place
really exists on this earth,
but it feels very familiar
She feels familiar
It feels too easy to say
that I feel like we know each other
“from a past life”
but I say it anyway

I find comfort
in documenting her version
of a life

One day she tells me;

<3 - 2023-12-29 13:36:28 - <3<333333

adolphus50@moneysquad.org - 2022-10-06 00:56:37 -

- 2022-10-06 00:56:37 -

adolphus50@moneysquad.org - 2022-10-06 00:56:35 -

joan14 - 2022-10-06 00:56:35 -

Developer - 2022-10-06 00:56:33 -

Developer - 2022-10-06 00:56:25 -

shannon_boyer@moneysquad.org - 2022-10-06 00:56:09 -

- 2022-10-06 00:56:08 -

shannon_boyer@moneysquad.org - 2022-10-06 00:56:06 -

joan14 - 2022-10-06 00:56:05 -

shannon_boyer@moneysquad.org - 2022-10-06 00:56:03 -

joan14 - 2022-10-06 00:55:57 -

118 Yundt Burg - 2022-10-06 00:51:14 -

- 2022-10-06 00:51:14 -

118 Yundt Burg - 2022-10-06 00:51:13 -

Suite 574 - 2022-10-06 00:51:12 -

118 Yundt Burg - 2022-10-06 00:51:11 -

Suite 574 - 2022-10-06 00:51:03 -

lonnie46 - 2022-10-06 00:50:45 -

- 2022-10-06 00:50:44 -

lonnie46 - 2022-10-06 00:50:43 -

nico.franecki@bdcimail.com - 2022-10-06 00:50:42 -

nico.franecki@bdcimail.com - 2022-10-06 00:50:40 -

lonnie46 - 2022-10-06 00:50:38 -

lonnie46 - 2022-10-06 00:50:21 -

- 2022-10-06 00:50:19 -

lonnie46 - 2022-10-06 00:50:17 -

baylee_harris@bdcimail.com - 2022-10-06 00:50:15 -

baylee_harris@bdcimail.com - 2022-10-06 00:50:13 -

lonnie46 - 2022-10-06 00:50:08 -

E - 2022-04-11 00:22:06 - so beautiful

- 2022-04-11 00:21:49 -

- 2022-04-11 00:20:38 -

*_* - 2022-03-31 12:01:05 - I love it!!