Monday, August 26, 2002

It's been a week of non-activity, the busiest of all times...when I'm dying to figure out what it is that I can possibly do that is not this. Read between the lines, makes perfect sense.

There I was, on somebody else's balcony, thinking somebody else's thoughts, worrying about a life not my own. And it helped. To think without responsibility and involvement and the stakes. To just think.
Wonder what it would be like to have the water in the sky fall into my thoughts and let them trickle into somebody else's consciousness. To step into a puddle and dirty borrowed clothes. To smash your car and eat your food. To steal your money and live your fears. To be not me.

Will you be me for a day and a life?