Difficult for you to be honest to yourself? Or discreet. Close your eyes. You don’t see no one. Or someone. Words on the book, words in the eyes, words dont suffice. Can’t balance? Sleep. Beings. Mosquitoes.. Strange Mosquitoes. Where did sincerity go? Some new world. Oh take me to the land with the yellow bricks..pardon me its the Oz effect. Kiss me to sleep. Not you, you lousy mosquitoe! Twisted creativity. Lack of expression. Lack of inspiration? Lack of excuses! Yeah?
Pottery. Tango. I hate pickles now. Messed with virtuality. Its no use. A hundred years are waiting. You can’t peep in anymore.
Take me to my childhood. Safari Park, lots of trees..the straight road. The single horse. Monkey on the tree, munching on bananas. The rabbit section, my favourite…nostalgia in each grain of salt, whose sandcastles we built and destroyed a thousand times. Swirling swings, endless rounds..Two sided swings..the rolling slides. Breeze and charm. Where’s that place, hidden? Let me be there..once..twice..when I was two..or four..or eight..
Dont let me go..this whirlpool..this crowd.Struggling. Mingling.Craving. Where’s that feeling? Where’s that warmth? Playfully heartless? The sands dont speak..its alien. We’re not lonely. We’re just walking our intermingled roads. We’re in some heaven, as Bryan Adams said. Only is hard to see.