Sometime I feel that I
must remain lost
there is nothing to be gained
from being present, from being found
the mysteries of the soul
– or whatever you may name it –
must remain untold, hidden
to myself and to you.
For a total transparency is a total act of deception
I am never the same
nor you
as often as there are thoughts, reactions
e.mo.tions
a turn of passion on an empty stomach
or a lost translation,
an interpretation of sorts
as long as there are people I haven’t yet met
and memories intercepted on recall
hermeneutic beliefs
I may even forget my favourite books
or fall out of love with a film, an idol, a dream
the constant is superfluous
what is the point of arriving?
arrival is death.
t.a
14th Jan 2025