29 May 2012


he came from the sunset, he came from the sea. he came from my sorrow and can love only me, she sings next to me on the windowsill. I gather myself to the moment now, mesmerized by the summer rain. through music the I behind the I follows a chain of associations brought by the complex, unique set of sounds. time bends a bit as I breathe in.

we met by the counter of a museum of modern art. she was reading the catalog for an exhibition on italian futurism, as approachable as anyone. the fool that I am, I asked,

“do you like speed?”
“excuse me?”
“do you like amphetamine?”

a curiously damning look in her eyes she was laughing at me behind her smile.

“no, why do you ask?”
“just out of curiosity. nothing to do with the assumptions I have of italian futurists. can I buy you a cup of coffee?”

on the patio, she sat across from me with her tea, sun in her hair. I can't remember what we had been talking about before, but as the wind blew cold for the first time she said,

"the moment we learn to be fully consciously present we gain access through the endless web of associations, springing quite wildly through time and space. mindfulness aims at a clear view to all directions."

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