best friends

Everything was falling apart

and as always she called me

she told me she felt shit and finally I breathed

the air of free expression

We always fought against everyone and everything to be together

We used to run back home after school just to pick up the phone and talk some more

and now we were both mothers

So I took my son over to her flat down the road where she was with her own son, who was asleep

I asked if he would mind a small walk in the middle of the night

and he replied “of course not, she’s your best friend”

I brought a bottle of red wine

and we spoke without restrain

There was no need to shout to be heard anymore

never felt this much together

no other voice felt more reassuring or safe

The boys were dreaming

and we were unchanged, but bright and new, just like 20 years ago

in a safe place where our riches could be appreciated for their true value

without envy

Before saying ¬†goodnight we kissed each other’s son as if he was our own

We said goodnight with a sigh of relief

All heavy objects were turned into magical light things falling into a well with Alice

The boys were both safe tonight from nightmares

and we were treated for once without violence or manipulation

together in the unbearable lightness of being

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laughing in our sleep

So what if hearts have a natural affinity for being broken?

So what if our shared sense of reality, normality or time should be fucked up?

What if we are destined to part?

When I first met you, you could hardly breathe in your sleep. I stayed awake worried about you, not thinking about whether you fancied me or not, but about whether you would be ok.

Last night you were laughing and talking in your sleep and as I closed my eyes entangled in your body I thought that this might well be what happiness feels like.

jealousy

It is a wonderous feeling of unrest. Piercing through one’s imagination and retrieving the darkest, most freudian fears. Belief in dark nightmarish insecurities haunting our entire lives. Fears of abandonment and betrayal isolating you in a frozen forest from human contact. Making every move and waking moment fearful and hesitant, overshadowed by a constant suspicion, hinting that every word others utter is a terrible lie. Obsession and objectification of human beings, which turn into precious monuments, requiring constant worship by vindictive gods. The games that the mind plays… what evolutionary purpose could they possibly serve? Every political movement and leader motivated by vice and fear, every uprising by loss. The darkness of human history is the insuperable force of mass jealousy.

We turn our heads to all this madness by looking at the developing world, thirsty for blood, we watch the bombings and shed tears for orphaned or dismemebered children, waiting for the refugees to arrive, distributing blankets and clothes from our overstuffed cupboards, feeding on their gratitude. Then we march hand in hand, swallowing tear-gas, and police violence, returning to law-abiding homes exhausted. Back to capitalism, a place where every value is virtual, where collective evolution is in a constant battle for personal, everyone convinced that they can have more than they worked for, more than what was given to them, as much as someone else, or even more, alternating gods and objects of desire, lost in a maze.

The simple, the loyal, the quiet, the decent, the inspiring, the honest, the affectionate, the observant, the receptive and the loving – will they kneel to jealousy, will they complement each other like yin and yang or will they stand above? If we want to be realistic, they will probably take drugs, drink alcohol, be promiscuous and party until they nearly drop dead, at which point they are told it’s this virtual reality or nothing.

The end

…It is a most fearful and desirable notion

It is something that glorifies one’s viewpoint

because at the end you are the sole witness

and the narrator of a story completed

some people prefer their journeys long and some short

some provoque, some allow, some avoid

whatever way, ‘the end’ always comes

to bring clarity and perspective

through its multiple time-space dimensions

memory is in itself timetravel

only possible at the very end

before the disintegration and the new beginning