Man muss noch Chaos in sich haben, um einen tanzenden Stern gebären zu können. -F. Nietzsche

The finest of companions have no less than four feet. A bunch of dogs is taking me home for the last couple of weeks in the wee hours of the morning, protecting me from strangers gazes. At midnight I was walking through lonely streets with a minimum of 8 dogs around me, looking at bookstore vitrines, wondering why they are always putting the worst books behind these glasswalls, watching the leaves dance in the wind and imagining the moon as a slice of lemon hovering in the sky.
I haven't slept in 24 hours, black circles become visible under my eyes. I will make myself a cup of coffee, head off to the bakery and will try to find a warm place to sit down and read Aldous Huxley. My home is colder than an igloo, I am wearing a thick layer of wool clothings, my coat, various blankets, gloves(when I'm not typing). It's like my toes will break off like ice, I can hardly feel them.



Listening to: Ωχρά σπειροχαίτη - Θα φύγω μια μέρα