only the green light coming fron the aquarium. Better to feed the fishies now.
Turning on the cold white weak lamp on this freezing evening. So confortable.
The tea is over, it was great, the mug rests in silence on the corner of wood .
I am all exited and with no ideas, only this impulse of make things happen.
Yes, it pulses, so intence.
There is nothing to do.
There is no world out there.
My presence here is almost not being.
Then the impulses pulse implosions.
I trade breaths with the dark brow and coldness of the furnitures.
The fishies ate fast and went back to their nests among the dense vegetation of the aquarium.
All the arms of silence, with the texture and shines of cat's hair, swallowed my teptatives of seeing beyound the walls.
I got no arms.
If there are real places... if there are real doors ... what is it ? Because my mind can't figure out and reach anymore. Never did.
And no exitement anymore. But the fear of a mamory.
I remember when she used the expression : "house holdings".
I don't even know what it means. What exactly did you mean?
It was few months ago.
The panic grows everyday on my nerves because of that.
It is not true !!
It is not true !!
There are no "house holdings" here whatever it means.
I can leave anytime.
Don't close this door to me. Whatever door it is.
Where is the world?
where is the world?
I have never found it.
