Monday, 12 December 2011


I am not quite there yet.

This is the furthest south I have been.

A beginning with two names. It is 3.27pm. I am at the Tribeca Grand. 

And what do you write when you have nothing to say. When purple cups and cigarette butts make up your material. When the spectacle that draws all the attention is a cage being elevated to the 22nd floor. When it falling down, killing a few, would for sure make the headlines. When people speak in languages you know all too well. When she is a thing of beauty and the rest is a bore. What do you write when your head is suffering from self-inflicted pain. When you feel alienated by familiar faces and sight. When the world has some catching up to do and no one seems to care. When you want to write in a language so simple that the signs don’t add up. When you are back on track realising those horizons are in fact only an illusion of the eye. When you know that you know that the qualities you appreciate don’t make it here. When standing around is the only option.

What do you write when base is your favourite word.
What do you write when base is your favourite word.
When looking down appreciating shoelaces over faces. When the graphic impulse is blown out of proportion. When straightness seems the rule.
What do you write when technique is superior. When stupidity shines. When glossy pants are doing the rounds. What do you write when a simple painting makes sense.
When men are making their way north. When you are fully covered but short a quarter.

What do you write when your coffee is strong and smelling fine. When girls are chatting sharing lunch. When apples are wrapped in ways that saturate their beauty. When people on their phones seem to be speaking just to themselves. When idealism is banned and no one knows where to go.

What do you write when the tension in your head is moving on. When awareness shifts and you suddenly start to care. When sanity prevails and things slow down. When all the brave faces of this street stop doubting their project. When women are wearing hats that support my beliefs and men are trying to shift old literature.

What do you write when word upon word looks a waste. When it manifests a presence but ordering is hard. When bread is sliced. When beauty looks your way while waiting for her salad to get dressed. When you pick up a wifi but the page refuses to load. When the shared becomes exclusive. What do you write when a leather jacket suits someone and makes him look hotter. When pigeons indulge in the muggy shit that makes up a profound. When a symmetry of tabs makes a lot of sense. When epic is the buzzword and texting it to 78247 might make a difference. When several greys come together and turn a surface into an experience.

What do you write when queues are made up entirely of people who don’t belong. When architecture shows its true face and exercises terror and triumph concurrently. When the cold arrives and you pull up your hood, finding comfort in its Informality.

What do you write when men are puking into plastic bags.
When blue turns red turns green turns yellow.
What do you write when topless men mingle with horses.
When faced with a spring-green forest. When you have come to the end and are meant to leave. When monotony is the favoured and simplicity your hideout.