This much...I know...

These pretty empty days, this pretty empty city full of people and one missing...
And these gray skies, even when the sun shines and this wet cigarette that I cannot smoke and these numb hands... it will all pass.
I have that voice calling from the other side and those eyes that are still looking at me, amongst all these people, they still look at me even from afar and amidst the mist. And the thought soothes and I can breathe and feel the warmth, I can keep on my feet and walk.
So without waiting for the rain to stop I will keep walking until I get home.

lollypop

There's that old clock on the shelf to the left of the record player and that mirror with the rusty frame on the opposite wall. There is also the warm smell of wood and something else none of us could recall. There is that long hall we used to walk thinking it would lead us to a different place, one far far away from the one we were when we started, and it often did...
There is the smell of coffee in the morning and boiled milk in the afternoons and those beautiful hands a bit broken and tired.
There is that hat that was too big for us but fitted perfectly on his head and it made him look taller and there is the smile that always came with it.
There is the glint and the masks and the ships floating in the sky as they danced to the music of the violin that came from the other side.
And there is all this because there is no other place it could go. It lies here now blasted and yet intact, faded but tangible and it remains if only for an inconspicuous moment if only for us to keep coming back.

On how I lost my sequin but didn't lose my buttons.

We were sitting there drinking and relying on the stars to give us an idea of who we were, mostly as a joke but maybe hoping that the ridiculous sketch would get us near the truth, if only for the lack of better ways to grasp some meaning or to make up a decent story out of all those pieces that for some reason refused to fall into place. And we were joking about how good things where, for some if not for all, in spite of all the mishaps. Mostly I was thinking that this is my third drink and maybe I should not get another one and maybe I should stop thinking as well and just try and stay still for a bit because I frequently get lost, even in my own thoughts.
But in the meantime we were walking again, out in the cold, and laughing... talking about everything at the same time and for a minute there it might seem we are actually getting somewhere.
So these are the faces I see and those are the voices I remember whenever I start to grow tired of meandering, of wondering, of contemplating whatever it is that is inside this little room. Those are the eyes who have peered into it through that tiny little window, just because there happened to be a light on.

Out of the blue

Among green roses, with the sun in my face (although sometimes I still prefer the rain) I was finally coming out when this little nightingale comes to tell me all about that time when she looked at her reflection and thought she was a bluebird and waited for a while... waited for a consort who would sing with her to the dawn.
But after a while of waiting, the impatient curious nightingale decides it is time to leave this place and sets off to distant lands and some strange places with not a thing but her songs and leaving nothing behind. So naive little nightingale learned the proper songs and started to forget the old ones and it would be a nice thing to say that everything was going well, but as it happened the nightly melancholic mood still leaked through her now cheerful tunes making them sound rather eerie even to the brightest of the skies. And yet, this stubborn pretty nightingale refused to give up hope and kept singing until one particular day someone sang back. Well, this song was nothing like any other song this auspicious but fumbling nightingale had heard before and it came from underneath the sycamore where taking shelter laid a skylark with a broken wing. It then occurred to our foolish weary bird that she could stay under the sycamore for a little while with her new friend and listen, and so she stayed... and listened... and so blissful was the moment that the day went by and twilight came and there, still, they remained. Only then, this moony nightingale remembered again her fondness for the night and the beauty of its sounds and stayed up all night, oblivious to the fact that this night would soon be past. Little nightingale however, assured me that this night, unlike any other night, bided until the wound healed and it was time to part.
And yet, when the morning came, poor little nightingale did not dare to fly that high and as she lost sight of her lark she thought of singing but she was out of breath and the sound was not loud enough...
Oh well, I was already going out you see, but after the story I think I will stay with my broken nightingale and her frail heart. She will sing and I will laugh and we'll get lost into the lighlessness that seems hollow, but who can really tell what we might find.

|ji ng ks|

I would buy it good Sir but the truth is… I don’t believe in magic - says the witch who has grown tired of playing useless tricks and casting flawed spells -. But it has never failed, you say? And it will give me all the strength and the grace, all the talents and the music and the eloquence? Ah, but there you see my dear sir; I believe you should know that I no longer care for words at all. Yes, I heard! It requires no effort, I will fall asleep and in the morning everything will be there. I must admit that it is quite tempting, but it's just that I don’t see how that will make any difference.
Oh, you think it was Destiny’s make that you happened to cross my path tonight? Well, perhaps you’re right but if you look around you will realise that it’s been a cunning act from this Fate you talk about, although it could well be just a mistake in keeping track of time, because everyone’s gone already so there’s no more use for those marvels you’re offering me now. Farewell then good man, go along! However, before you go, since you’re so keen on potions and charms take this one here. It contains my memories and dreams, my secrets and incantations. Find them a new vessel fit for them. Find them someone fearless and skilful, someone fresh and full of hope but most importantly, someone with enough patience to make them work.
And if that Destiny you mentioned earlier should make us meet again we will pass by each other’s side as strangers because you won’t recognize my face and yours, I will certainly forget.

Well... if you're not here when I wake up,
would you please take the kite...
I would't know what to do with it otherwise

What's with the stupid hat?

She comes again and tells me this time she'll make it and she's all over the place! But she is convinced and her resolution even made me think she could be right, until I noticed... the hat. As I take a better look at her and I contemplate those amazingly dark eyes I come to recognise that spark (again), the one that precedes every single attempt ant that she swears it's new... every single time.
"By the way I feel now" - she says- "I know this is going to change everything!".
To be perfectly honest I would have probably believed her this time, I have to admit that there are many things that have, in fact, changed quite a bit, and of course I want to believe it! I want to see it happen, once and for all, but it's just that little detail that hides behind her smile, the constant factor in every one of her little trials.
So in realising this, and knowing that I would not be able to make her see it, I decided to do as always and just smile, enjoy the light while it lasts as she goes around glimmering for everyone else to see, as she begins to feel much better and happier and stronger.
One more time I won't say a word and I'll try not to give away my ominous thoughts and I'll wait (again)... hope for the best... until I see the spark fade away and everything going back to its normal state. But in the meantime I'll hang on to the possibility, however unlikely, that this time before the jump, she will finally dig it! Then everything will actually change, and we won't be sitting here again later, thinking of the next step to take.
But ultimately if this one turns out to be another mishap, I think I would still stay and wait for the next rush, even for the next collision and maybe... for the next fall.