I want to run to Japan

Do you remember? Do your memories leave a corresponding image of what really happened?
There was always a ghost in the corner of your eye. Have you ever tested the hardships of going forth?

The phonograph is playing old jazz tunes about love; Ella divine. I'm burning candles by the numbers. The sounds of the city make it in through my window. Will it ever be quiet? Will the people? Or that faint sound of some aircraft?

It is too warm to sleep, but the rain will come soon enough. I guess.

I've been listening to my head. It tells me many things. Insecurities will disappear. Strength will grow. Opportunities seized. Regrets forgotten. The mind has a beautiful way of sorting out the things you do not need to remember in time. I could do with a few more years on my back, though.

Been walking. Just took off in this unsafe city of mine. No fear. Determination. Countering stagnation. Trying not to hide so much. Trying to catch eyes. Surviving getting caught by them.

Trying to be reasonable, good, pure, kind and selfless. Trying to see what it means to be white and not black, a woman and not a man, a human and not a beast. Trying to open up my ever so closed mind. There is a great world of things I do not know.

And I don't know where to run anymore.

Ingen tanker

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Mystifistiske May

Mystifistiske May

23, Oslo

Mitt dpenavn er May. Jeg er mystifistisk - en utviklet form av vanlig mystikk. Jeg er en sjel som finner glede i skape i bilder og ord. Og jeg prver skape et nytt liv for meg selv, utenfor min lille hule av melankolsk musikk og film, utenfor depresjon, selvhat, sosial angst og andre uhumskheter. Jeg har trukket meg tilbake fra livet i alt for mange r; det er p tide og trampe meg opp og ut. Jeg byr deg god dag og veksler gjerne en linje eller tusen: mysticmay(a)rocketmail.com.

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