"We come too late for the gods
and too early for being."
- MARTIN HEIDEGGER

The wind at this hour....
what a restless sound it is....
Sweeping across everything....
inhabiting places we forget are there.

Beyond the darkness,
so much solitude slammed into each moment.

Damn, I wish I could lose myself in the wind.

> > >

But right now....
all I can see is some damn dusty truck....
its metal all bloody rattling as it accelerates towards me....
so so fast....

I tell you....
the way it moves,
the whoosh of its power....
Seriously....
I could do with somebody to talk with right now.

> > >

Imagine....
A street. A construction site.
A lone red crane against a bright blue sky....

And I'm thinking....
This worLd just dazzles me with its
damn uglLy surfaces....
godforsaKen place with its murky bitumen tracks
just killiNg me when I'm like this.

( Pause )

And then.... well....
"a dull wash of everything moving away from me".
The rounded edge of the world suddenly slipping away.
No sound or sense of myself at all really....
Just nothing.

> > >

Where am I now?
On the curb of course....
just standing. Teetering....
That truck almost close enough.

I'd annihilate my own misgivings....
but they're already gone.

I should be ashamed before myself....
But no....
time for that later....
It's an afterthought after all.

> > >

> > >

> > >

MMM....
I'm on my way again.
This body of mine loves to move.
So that's what I do.

Radiance, dissonance....
everything stops to start again.
This time anyway....