morning crying like morning coffee. opening new chapter. the day trickles down in blue and brown. something written there, streamed down into emptiness. I have a look inside, turning my face away at the same time as I already know it by heart and don't feel like having any more.
every object, word or gesture are events. I feel unlucky as they happen to me. a color, marked in time – I never want it, it's always there.
funny how heavy a lack can be.
I write my great promises down on the water surface with my finger. they go away with the ripples. they'll never dry up.
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