I am a seeker. Always have been.
And if things go on like this, I’ll be a seeker forever.
I probe. I am not randomly stretching my ear.
Seasons follow one another, I am now collecting the rotten woods I cut last summer, a tangible proof of the passage of time.
The background musical chord is already lost, fading away.
Only dark, obscure remains left, nothing important.
I am always looking for something.
Because I want to save people or, maybe, because I want them to save me.
All while I get lost in this forest of traps, too many spears in my chest to hear them.
Too many to hear anything.
Too strong to be able to stop myself.
There’s a reason if I’m a character.
There’s a reason if I’ll be famous. If I’ll be remembered.
There is a reason for this banal performance in which the puppets come and go.
I always look for something, I look a lot.
I’m looking for that person, the one that will upset me.
I don’t know if she is looking for me too, in that case she must be very far away.
There’s a reason why I have so many places.
There is a reason why on, public transport, I always occupy one additional place beside me.
There’s a reason why I forget the lights on behind me.