and soon she fell. no no no… dropped. who knows… with the indebtedness he had… (was it who?) hmm… fifty percent of the time, no one really cared but the rest was unavailable anyway, so hey! natural explanation for this phenomenon was right in front of my eyes and between my toes and only a dripping -or maybe it was a tender falling, to be politically correct- made it visible. and there it was, standing very still, and it was the fastest thing that ever existed; coming and going every once in a while but that freaky girl saw it once and afterwards it was not possible (unfortunately?) rejecting it. went through the river. in fact they crossed the river by using the bridge, in a cab. stopped in a fish restaurant. fish was ok but that uneasy feeling must have been caused by something she ate. later on the porch she remembered a book she read: let’s assume that someone who was about to write a letter to someone -a gender or genders doesn’t matter- was suspecting for a moment that (someone) was slightly drunk or maybe (someone) was sure about it. no, no, it is not an offending, noisy or a repellent kind of drunkenness in subject here -otherwise … - …the person who was writing the letter, with the occurrence of () drunkenness, could have only been given up from writing. that blurry sobriety of drunkenness, could have awaken the idea of giving up on any kind of conversation () might have.
aah. bored and yet not enough bold she was. tried to recall that thing -besides the fact that she was unable to be the seagull she envisioned of, she meaninglessly craved for the shitty feeling she once was afraid of. touched and poked some of the dust with her foot. of course that couldn’t take her mind away from the idea that she is as empty as a water bottle, with its plastic removed. took a deep breath and bounced for a couple of times at where she stands.
Eeh, I like talking to strangers, what do you do?
First reblog, well-deserved.
He is the dearest.