bcl
Once again back
And without you words come to my mouth I have to swallow. Once every minute for the simple reason of the words being too extreme, in their physical state or for the memories that they will convey. Fifteen times a second because I don’t have my love by my side listening to every deep or shallow thought that crossed my mind.
We exist as we in a state that makes us more extreme each night, makes us believe that drinking will make our fevers go away. And they do for the moment, and we live for the moment and for the memories, for the stories we'll never tell our grandchildren. Because that certainly was not their grandfather.
Ran through oceans of people hand in hand in the dark with only a cigarette in hand, were taken to the floor by one and to the open roof by another who had the password to the sky. went nowhere to see everything, were so full with impressions that food felt like excessiveness. Everything flowing around us like the lights in the clubs. People, places, time.
And we left with the impression the police were after us, throwing clothes in suitcases like fugitives on the run, not staying the last night we paid for. Were picked up by the king and his hip hop prince who carried our bags, and slept safer without knowing where we were, waking with disbelief at ourselves.
I am realizing how saying we is easier than I. And that the afterglow of the unplanned far exceeds the expectations of the expected.
I love you!
