Conversation To No One

It's easier to fall in love with the idea of someone in love with you, then actually with the person itself.

Three stories of six escalators streamed past each other in mechanical silence. They each carried the absence of flesh and memories. Quiet rotatory of metal hums and the air-conditioning most obvious in void of crowd.

Twelve hours later, I was the only one left behind.

The sick house remained gravely silent.

Occasionally someone coughed and that's that.

That's the problem with holidays, hospitals were almost a taboo.

And then more sounds. I guessed when one's tired, details can be very attractive. The world compressed into illogical preceptive of space and sound. Traffic squashing, street lamps flashing and shapes of speed can be comfortably suffocating.

Thank you, I would like some starlight in my coffee.

The train - the promiscuous shack of disinterest. Decibels of atoms pulled along the journey. Pulled along us to drop-zones of deluded destinies. I stripped wide the obituaries on the newspapers and saw that the announcement for obituary bookings would be closed tomorrow. Everyone would be immortal this stroke of midnight?

I like to forget what I've told. A sweet solace in knowing that I won't miss anything when I have missed everything. That's my philosophy of loneliness.

I reached home by evening, the skies hang low and yellow and massive and bitter and unworthy. I drew the curtains and locked my door. And I closed my eyes and buried my heart.

Bite my thumb and watch the moonshine in the groove.

Holidays are so misplaced. They should be on days:

• Baybeats are taking place.
• Whenever days after I'm drunk.
• And days I don't feel like waking up.
  

Sometimes I see a friend. I always enjoy the moment of passing each other with flash in the pan recognition and quicker pretence. Friendship is a shared twisted point of view.

Won't it be nicer if we don't have to try so hard at living it right?

With the neat whiff of antiseptic; the ever grinning bribery of mercy, I regained conscious and found myself back in the sick house.

Hospital is my life.

I don't get it.