Anise
I can walk away from the screen and look from a distance. You back there, facing a red wall. While I wait for you to finish. And I keep telling myself that everything is fine. Quick time before a long wait. Time that burns before a long emptiness. I brush against your image. I resist the temptation to write to you. I keep you suspended. An image of you in my mind. Your madness poorly hidden. At least to my eyes. Behind the need for certainty, the desire to get lost. Still in your room.
A man in a tracksuit
The hours in front of the monitor doing things that don't interest me.
Tasks for companies I don't know. Applications that don't have great applications. Company ads I can't find. Job ads I respond to. Response messages that don't arrive. An empty email inbox. Hours spent in meetings where the future of a button is decided. A button that will be removed at the next meeting. A button that will be replaced by another button. A button that will be deleted through another button.
A woman halfway
It has been three years since I met her, and I can't say how much I know. I wish I could say otherwise, but I haven't yet found a way to get as close as I would like. Sometimes I feel like I'm where I want to be, but I realize I'm still not close enough. That I'm still far away.
So I trust my feelings and I imagine what might be there. I remain seated outside, waiting for the doors to open.
Letter from a little pink cage
When I meet a friend, I should only ask them to give me the pleasure of spending some good time together. Maybe to talk about something that only they can understand, considering everything we have been through.
I often manage to do this, but sometimes I can’t. And often it happens that people run away. I think they’re afraid of the truth they might share. Sharing their truth with me, means showing me that they are fragile.
Sorry for being so blunt
Sometimes I just want to block her number. Forget I met her. And other times I wish it was easier to see her. Maybe the latter is the way I feel when I don't text her for more than one day. It may seem like a short time.
But she’s the one I text everyday. She’s the one I text to say “Hello”.
Travel cheques
Many years ago I was in Turkey. I had to come back to Greece and there wasn’t a direct train from Istanbul. I had to reach the border and take a train for Alexandroupoli.
When we took it, it was a hot day. Our clothes smelled of apple tea and hookah. Someone close to our sofa smoked mint tobacco. We didn’t have clean clothes, so they were the same we had last night in Turkey. We left the hostel with our heavy backpacks.