Syndicate: a diary

[dave@uns.ns.ac.yu (by way of Andreas Broeckmann)]

it was a looooong journey.
aeroplanes, tickets,
trains, tickets, borders, buses,
money, tickets, borders, tickets, taxi,
tickets, borders, money, trains,
tickets, buses, tickets, money, borders, aeroplanes, borders, money,
borders, money, borders, many, borders, many, borders,
borders, borders, borders.....
and a final border.
get into the car.
driving me home. again.
from a to b and from b to a.
always the same except this time.
v. had driven slowly, like he knew i'm so tired.
the landscape made me uneasy; wild flowers and dead dogs
everywhere around.
no one takes care, but they are still blooming. and dying.
as always.
except this time.
his hands are so unusual.
someone may think they belong to the girl.
d. is on the back seat. silent, but very present.
friends.
surrounding me.
taking care about my tiredness, about my loneliness, about my thoughts.
simply loving me.
as always.