Unclear ice
I don’t always know how to explain. Maybe sometimes I shouldn’t even try.
Tonight I will write my diary instead of a blog post. At least, to me, it all makes sense.
I will be back when my head is a little bit more clear and the ice cubes in my drink has melted.
this rum
this room
a bit of lime
some perception of time
I hold it close
as close as I can grasp
a sense
a recollection
the distant chimes
the subdued silence
all of which vertical events of life
this, now-here…