DEAR LIFE.. PARTE DOS..

So, Life... It didn't work..

Well, in some way it did: now my thoughts crawl around deeper INSIDE your belly, bitch...

Here's the thing: A friend of mine asked me to dance after challenging me to unleash my inner will.. the REAL one, you know, whatever that is... I don't want to, although I know that my inner will is just LONGING to dance. I know so well that my kind of dancing right now would make me an even bigger stranger to what's around me. It would be the ultimate privacy (well unless there's somebody to dance with who would feed this distant four-letter-myth I already told you about.. someday you gotta give me the answer to that one...(did I previously mention that to you or was that with someone else?.. please get back to me on that one..)).

Anyway. I would be a wall without any outside. Period. A dancing wall.. Seriously: If I imagine myself dancing right now there's just me inside a solid nothingness.. even the music would be rooting inside of me.. And what I hear and do would be hard and dishuman (don't get me started on the impossibility of that - I still don't believe you, remember?..). Movements of pushing the edges of eternity apart (perhaps that's so because I don't actually dance - another one of your little quirks, I guess.. Fuck you, life!..)

So... I'm heading off to where the waters flow as from the other floor a familiar tune catches my ear. Blindly I follow: seriously, they are playing dire straits' 'southbound again' upstairs. -- Now I'm home. I stand and listen..and fidget and grin. How come I don't want to break the edges anymore now? - Not with that music - MY - music? (and don't you dare telling me that's because it's the dire straits..)... My guess is: It's the absence of a struggle against what I really don't want: Radiogagarintintin..(or can you make me dig it; CAN YOU? - Well, tucking DO IT then..)

Anyway. Now I'm in a place I know fits me (or at least doesn't misfit me..).. Now my dance would be fitting. There's a spot that misses me when I'm away. I built myself a home in these tunes. A HOME, understand? (I don't by the way, but how is that an indicator for the truth?..) . A home with a dance floor by the way (and o! so.many other rooms..). Funny thing, life: That home is INSIDE your belly. -- Or isn't it ...? 

Here's lookin' at you, kid.... 

So long again.. Watch my sleep, life -- but first: Watch me dance! 

Worst, E.S.