Slamming windows, tozen windows slamming, and as I am trying to close everything, other ones appear or open brutaly, ...what's that?? Seems like I am all messed up, trying to breathe... Is that me?? The storm raging, my belongings drowning, what keeps me alive? I know, it means that I don't belong, neither to me, neither to anything. This is the new life, just mirrors, only questions. Where is the spirit, god help me... It's just a boat, and the sea never ends, that's the only thing I can be sure of. Lost a dream there, now it's an island that nobody ever visits, or really? I look back: must reinvent again, or must create something new: choose.

Milk

Love you, drown me, must not see the end of it, neither the stream (feel it, don't...). Fruit Island, where I sleep, Eden where I find virgin-me. Lying, watching the fruits falling slow motion... nice, felt on my head so softly. Now I will bite one of it, will be so soft that I will die of this new feeling. Now I am having visions, white visions. Mostly milk. Milk people. The milk people try to talk but only greasy pearls flowing out delicately on the extrimities of their mouths. Their breathe makes bubbles. Now I climb a pear tree, sit on a branch and sing melodies. At anytime I want, I can just let myself fall in the milk bubbling broth.

Western eldorado

Invented myself a western eldorado, with square horses with sad eyes, mad gold searchers with ugly mouths, mechanic pianos playing itselves all day long, shady faces appearing behind windows, a crazy grandma, some dirty vicious babysitter with a criminal background... a ghost city with something in the air but with humans with nothing inside. A gloomy music, everything perfectly detuned. The place where natural elements make everything suspect, but where nobody cannot do anything that we know. There are people playing some kind of roles, but nobody really exist, and they don't know. They're like ghosts, everything is happening outside them. They only have an abstract feeling of desolation and death, but most of the time it doesn't come to life, never.

(Soon coming: the story of the plastification.)

I have got good news. Time has slowed down, and then started to go backwards. Then it stoped, around 1986. It existed for a flash, and then it died and we got back stuck in here. Here's what happened in that 1986 flash.

Two girls were wearing excessive white sunglasses with pink shirts and those pants that fits your ankles perfectly, skin-tights. They had leather hand bags, pretty flashy in the sun, and they had never been so girly. Oof, they would have need support from the world around, I mean, who catches when time has rewind? They turned their heads back very quickly, very in the air with the hand bags and the hair and everything, and started to laugh throwing their heads behind. Somebody touched me and it ended. Need to find a way to float.

Hi, it's me, again. And I am getting fired up, again. About nothing, again. Well, in fact, it's about something so far away from concrete life, folks, but in an other way so close... I just cannot tell from here. Would need the support from an outsider... A trustfull one... Someone a little like me, or someone that could be my girl... in a non-existent life. Unless I cannot tell what it was... anyway it doesn't matter.

It happened that I found out that we can summarize anything with a single colour. Or two. Anyway, when you become a colour, or a joyfull mix of two, you may meet on your way other people that also are a colour or a mix of colours. And you're happy, and people are tastefull, and it makes for greater memories. Everybody knows the song "Yellow" from Coldplay. Love that song.

Eyes talk but cannot get to a point, because there are people. Eyes, juice, crystal, light... and I'm crazy.

Are those little girls angels or butterflies? Anyway, they know the way to our stomach, and they are hungry for it. I think theyre just killer angels. Wish I could see under reality... Then I could live with them... there... where it's... you know...

The day doesn't fit my mood... the night comes.... and I am floating...floating into the night. I am living when darkness comes. I don't understand the day... and everything that is happening during that time. I cannot settle into the day.... it's getting me nervous. Everybody starts living when darkness comes. Please don't read me as a gothic, 'cause I am not and... I not am. Darkness, velvet coat... where we feel at ease to create anything, evrything.

Gouzy gouzy gouzy girls, gnia gnia gnia smiles, that's where I am getting started. I've got two apples, one in each hand. I cannot touch you. Jungler? No, I am not jungling. A young man, alone, jungling on a place. I saw him. Hey man, what are you doing? This place is empty. Are you furious? What have you got in the eye? That's like a big nothing covering up something. How can I think of something for you?

I'll be tracked forever with japanese visions. Pink air, you know, flying manga gouzy gouzy... Stand in the air with that japanese music, everything flies around. Can I find the music for that pinky japanese world? Girls are so tiny and fragile and soft. I cannot take it... I have got two apples, one in each hand... Take a bite and smile, juicy juicy... juicy girl. Befor I chew the apple of your eye. I don't know how to say that I wan't everything else dying... Because I don't really want death, it's more of some kind of reality that has to change of colors. Some colors don't exist here. We don't have to talk about it, we don't have to talk, because talking belongs to a shit world. Some other world exists beyond talking, we don't understand that. Now I have got to be an extraterrian. Or figuring some heroic japanese world that must be like a young manga-girl phantasm. That's already too much... `cause we're not together lying on the grass looking at the sky. That's the only thing that should be.

Damn cats...

" I know I am guilty, my stomach always hurt. " Guilty? Let's say "stupid". I would have eat you, man. But instead I'll swim after her legs underwater. Nobody can see me there, I feel good and it kills you. Just the two of us...

You saw that non-existent movie (more like a scene, should I say) where the girl is making lustful signs while going backwards in the hall?? I am sure you know what I'm talking about, even if you didn't see that non-existent movie. Well, there must be a guy too, following the girl's signs, but without ever getting to touch her. A dream taught me that I really don't mind touching her. It really is not the point, you point-men. The only person that could understand that is that character woman that was fascinated with the action of taking out the trashes or something like that...

Anyway, wish I lived in Puddle Beach...

Hey, I say that age doesn't matter... Are they too much hung-up to understand that? You dress like in the 80s, you have greasy pink lips and wear excessive sun-glasses. By the way you mooved, and by the way I looked at you, we both understood. Inhibition wasn't your problem. But you had a baby...

You may just lost yourself into impossible dreams, you may either give up on that, as guys like me are blind and stupid. The way you mooved showed me that you still believed. I'll be there.

Shit happened today. First with Karen. She phoned me soon this morning, I was in a bad mood. I almost didn't awake and talked to her very rudely. As she was boring me with her reality details, I told her one dream I had and informed her that I tought it was a premonition that everything would soon fuck between each other. She begged me to get back to a normal behaviour. It got me angry: "I love you but I don't" I told her. Then: "If you were little more different, little more like I want, maybe it could work... I am sorry." After I told her that, she insulted me. I said: "You are starting to be interesting." She insulted me heavier. "I love you!" I told her. She started to cry and hanged off. When shit like that happen early in the day, it gets me started for the rest of the day for other shit. I ran into a girl that I was crossing by almost everyday in bike. We told each other so many things with our eyes, when we were crossing, that I think we were deeply in love. So I just fell of my bike and she understood, and then I loved her and then ignored her. She was so confused that she will love me forever. Girls...

Got to work today, fell asleep. I am a touristic guide, waiting for custommers alone in my box. Two women came and almost awoke me. First automatic tought: being affable. So, unconsiously I stood up and went to them with so much conviviality that it didn't awake me. I don't know how it happened, but in those few moments, we acted like aunts and godson. One of them touched me like if it was, if really that kind of touch exist (you know, the way aunts touch their godson...) Anyway, it lasted for couple of seconds, they went away, and I woke up.

I am not orphelin, by the way. Would be funny however that reality would be so simple. Dreaming of having a real comfortable familly as you are an orphan... And it ends there.

There are lots of places where you can write things that are not to be red by anyone. I just found out that a blog may be a good place to write things that would be red by people who would read it and hopefully reply to it. People struggling with their shit life seems to be the more interesting stuff for normal people. As my life as "me myself" -which means my mind life- doesn't have any interest in that context, I find no use being that "me myself" that I must be, I find no use being that small "me" that I must be in the ocean of life inside me, so I'll just be a pissed off American in need for affection. Why not be an American for this time? I can be anything, it is worth anything.

Emptyness allows us to move, to breathe, to "talk-shit-do", as I love to say. Otherwise we could not do those essential things. We would already be drone before to exist. This is where I start, to show you that I am serious: talking is nothing, as writting is nothing. Words and ideas just flow, there's always a mood behind it, and another more obscure mood behind it, and so on. The deepest mood is the one we cannot find out that it is possessing us as if we were puppets. That's why after having deep shit in our lifes, we wake up, but only a long time after and to fall in another dream. Radicaly, the deepest mood, the inaccessible one, is the mood that will stay constant all our life: we just cannot think it, we'll die before we find out. That's why we sometimes cry for no particular reason. It's like if we were living a tragic life and we could just feel that it's tragic without knowing why.

Messing with many girls at the same time, being exhausted by our relationships and starting to act bizarre, and when everything is over and we have a rest we awake up and find out how it really was, how we were at that time. We would cry for insignificant purposes during those tumultuous moments. We would float, sink, rage, become unrecognizable for our relatives.

No shame: no me no shame. Be ready to believe anything or go throw yourself into the river.