Tuesday, March 26, 2013

I confess it is only me ..............................and I almost don't mind










The living room smells and I am part of it.  
Have hiking boots for distant mountain tracks I don't even know on. 
Helmet on, gloves on, camping backpack on, favorite flannel shirt on, pants on, thick socks on, flash lights on, Swiss Army knife on.  

Who is the one 
Who promised to forget all the pretty songs 
Who rides its hybrid bike alone 
Who goes to church as holding a gun 
Who has green tea in front of an aquarium with wooden tea water and uber filled with green moss  
Who listens the dogs barking loud 
Who prefers when the days are cold 
Who the favorite color is green but says it is blue  
.......and eats apples with a cup of cold milk standing in the backyard looking up trying to find a piece of sky? 

I confess it is me 
I confess it is me 
I confess it is only me. 
...................................and I almost don't care.  

Tons of homemade sauerkraut again.  
Kept in sterilized jars of glass piled inside the wooden cupboard. 
The trees were all planted only at the other side of the city.  
Does anyone truly believe South America exists?  

I am tense balancing my life over fragile two wheels. 
Paranoid about cars and buses coming against me 
And homeless crack junkies watching me as hounds from the sidewalk. 
It is so nice...calm and quiet.. and full of life 
Speeding up under drizzle and rain and darkness and silence with no witness for crimes.   
So lonely only wishing to leave here fast and escape with no harm.  

Who is the one 
Who has a fake German watch and an authentic Italian tie 
Who doesn't clean the house very well 
Who paints self portraits different of how he looks like to see it for real 
Who collects pictures of tiny green houses and dream 
Who prays to Jesus with Faith 
Who keeps Java Moss in mugs in the windows of the bedrooms 
Who lives in Sao Paulo loving places as Wisconsin as it was London 
Who loves German Shepherds living with four Lhasa Apsos  
Who doesn't care for English speaking but is incapable to write in its own language   
Who wears DolceandGabbana fragrance to buy fruits because may have hot girls there 
Who is deeply grateful for everything moments before to buy another lottery ticket 
.......and eats apples with a cup of cold milk standing in the backyard looking up trying to find a piece of sky? 

I confess it is me 
I confess it is me 
I confess it is only me 
..............................and I almost don't mind.