Ghosts

Leaving England wasn´t difficult, I packed a suitcase, which was remarkably easy due to the fact that my possessions consisted of about five T-shirts, two pairs of jeans and stolen socks, and then I got on a plane, than off a plane. Now the air was warmer and it was that simple. Never again would I ever have to suffer the cold — this was the one thought that possessed me constantly up until my departure, possessed me until my plane landed and the one that is still capable of influencing my sleep cycle.

The adaptation to life here is a complete subjective experience; I understand that some people are able to slide, with mesmerizing ease, into a new way of life. I envy it greatly however as I am still struggling with letting people take my beer and labeling it as communal; people fill their cups constantly while the bottle gets dry. The people move different as well, I mean there´s no correct way to move, there´s no right or wrong, but I´ve spent my whole life, when being approached by a person, moving pass their right-hand side. Here, they go left and as a result I have not yet been successful in passing another human.

The impossibility of everything skews my words dramatically until all meaning is lost in a conjecture of thought, formed only by the patterns circling around my mind, that vanish as soon as focus is laid down upon them. It seems that whichever biome I find myself in, however charming is not able to root or nourish in a shifting landscape. The only thing that remains constant is visions that no longer have any feasible contribution to my overall reality; a painting cannot change a life. Yesterday I have a conversation with two empty chairs, today a conversation with myself.

Isotonic sodium chloride solution has a smiling face and if not for the discovery there might still be rioting in some part of England. We build shelter unquestionably because the sheer thought of elemental vulnerability is so harrowing that we rather not be subject to the unconscious idea, it may lead to bad dreams. Simply written we strive to survive but sometimes it is not that easy, like the artist who is too close to his work to see the true implication, we all need someone to tell us — “it´s okay” and for it to be convincing.