I do what I always do, watch and observe, how the Truth offends them, so much that it hurts them.
I am a messenger with an opinion and I was far from quiet in the last weeks. My evenings turned to Aristotle, Kierkegaard and Eco. A lesson in seduction.
But no worries, though everyone is gone I still sing when I clean my bathroom and respond to emails as much as I intend to.
My art is within me. I have become my art.
Think of it, what you please.
A hundred years ago woman may have been the dream of man but what else would woman dream of but love. Freedom.
You did not count on this. You misunderstood society that much that you even have become a dreamer yourself.
In the last weeks walking along the river on my way home has created reality. I teach myself how to walk in pitch black on a small trail that falls down into nothingness on one side. It excites me, every time the stars watch and how my heart races with steps fully firm.