About

I am a brief introduction of this stereotypical About me page. Yet, I’m facing it with endless hospitality. I caress my steps and I’m walking in circles towards a mirror that will never watch me. It tastes like sugar, the mirror broken to pieces, it tastes like blood but first of all it’s sweet in this redundant swirl of figures, characters and fatigue. Erroneous by definition I take a spoon to go on eating the mirror, but there are Lynch’s rabbits looking straight into my eyes, asking me what the hell I am doing. I usually stare at them and act like the whimsical child you never expect to see among smiling faces in the park. But this is industrious. This is different. This is strange and out of context, out of control. This is full of rage, sorrow and in a constant wait of collision. People never dream of a bright future. They say they do, they say they read the Divine Comedy and expect everything but prophecies. They repent, let elephants live in their towns and eat their food, but they do not know how to look for the migala spiders that wait for whispers, as only the whispers are their true food. Their true sugar. The only truth they know.

Well, thoughts come and go and so do moments. Afterall.

Keep you head down
Keep you head down
While they’re firing low
You’re too young child
To know the difference

Oh my pretty
Oh my sweet girl
It’s a marvelous place
They put weights down
In your coat tails to burn you out

Lest you fly
Lest you take off
And show whomever what’s what.
It’s one outrageous lie after another

Turn their lights out
Change the channel
Before we lose the heart
To fight against belief in what they’re saying

There’s a hotel
With a dark room
At the end of a corridor
I will meet you
To the strains of Allah

We will lie back
On a pillow of the whitest snow
And the silence we were promised
Will engulf us

Lay your head down
Keep your head down
While they’re firing low
You’re too young child
You’re too young child

We will wake up
From the dreams that bury us
We will tunnel our way out
By moonlight

From the dark room
To the white streets and the snow banks
We’ll invest in one another’s future

Oh my pretty
Oh my sweet girl
It’s a marvelous place
She designed it
With escape routes
For you and me

So to the library
With your new card
Grab your favorite books
Look for blueprints
To the strains of Allah
Here we go….

Benevolence is in back
Of everyplace you look
It’s not a monstrous face she is hiding

If I see her
I will tell you
You’ll come quickly
If you see her
Don’t hesitate just go

But till then

Keep your head down
Keep your head down
While they’re firing low
You’re too young child
You’re too young child

You’re too young child
Here we go…

(Nine Horses – The Librarian*)