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I don't know why I have not written anything for a very long time. And I don't know why I suddenly decided to start. I guess because my job is so demanding that I have to take a brake and look outside the window and see how the silent city is turning into a vibrant, explosive and noisy animal. My view is so peaceful. Sky scrapes swimming in the blue light, a weird guy building a pigeon house and party people roaming the streets.

I used to get upset when I would see people gathering together on the weekends and going out to the bars. I wasn't jealous, I just wanted to stop them and tell them how spoiled they are. They were so lucky, but they had no clue about it. I couldn't understand why they wanted to spend so much money when so many people were dreaming about a real shower. But I see them now and I want yo join them. I want to join them, because I want to run away from my reality. My reality has a clean shower. Not always warm, but certainly clean and regular. My reality consist of dreams and work. I work to be able to dream and I run far to find freedom.

I am sitting by a desk looking out the window, hearing the city weekend life, but I don't see it. I am sitting still, while the drum is beating faster and faster. My heart beat has slowed down but my mind hasn't. My body is sitting by the desk, but my soul is dancing to the drum beat. I look out the window to catch the sight of the man dressed in white. I imagine his feet dancing a pattern of a triangle. I don't see him, but I imagine his shadow dancing in the light from across the street. Maybe after I am done with work I could go downstairs and find this man. I might even join him.

Comments

An interesting piece. I get something of the city from it. And you, of course. It looks like some kind of solitude is an inevitable part of a living soul.
You are rite. Somehow there are moments when I feel so lonely and trapped far away from where I want to be. And those are the moments when I can really write. I love this city and feel surrounded by so many people, yet every night I come home, I find it very empty...