“I go home with strangers,” I suddenly said, “but the weird thing is I never sleep with them. I never get robbed or anything, either.
I think they got scared of me.”

“How come?”

“My total trust, or some kind of entire given up…that I didn’t care or worry about anything, including them.”



“well...I went home with a stranger just a few days ago, but I didn’t trust him at all.
I picked up a small statue at the door and kept it in my pocket when I walked into his house, just in case anything happens.
Remember I told you I was going on a mission? The night before the action you came back at dinner time, and told me about those sharks at the beach in Esplanade. how everyone stood in the dusk with their kids, watching them play and jump out the low tides like dolphins just a few meters away. You thought it was nothing unusual, just some amazing tropical things that we see every once in a while in Cairns… but we never did. You did. You’re a traveler. You see whatever you want to see.
It reminded me of a dream I had before, and it connected with reality somehow…

So I didn’t do the mission after all, I was afraid.
I couldn’t trust myself.”

A pdf ezine I did last year. probably one of the few things I ever made with a real purpose. massive thanks for all the contributers, friends, and everything basically.

he came back in late afternoon yesterday, when i was sitting on bed cross-legged, playing a random rhythm with his hank drum, which was transformed from a gas bottle, and has a bell-like sound which echoes itself, and unravels, into air and time.
from middle of the garret room i saw him silently emerged from the stairway, take off his jacket, and said he had heard me from the street outside, it sounds beautiful.
i put down the drum, and lay next to him. we looked at each other.
oblique sunlight went through the blind window of the terrace; i had been waiting since i woke up, maybe since i fell asleep.

he was tired, the tiredest i've ever seen. i almost felt guilty with the understanding of his wariness, his falling apart.
"where have you come from,"he murmured again, and held me closer.

all the smiles were gone.
like broken cocoons, our faces, were still warm with hope against each other.


"you had a big day," i said.

"yeah,
some weird things happened. and i’m going to tell you because it’s weird.”


i felt excited inside. he sounded like a teenager in trouble for the first time, and i was the secret imaginary friend he came back to.


“we were leaving the site from work today, in the car i was distracted by a phone call, so we delayed for a few minutes before we hit the road. i was driving, and saw some smoke growing ahead of us, we went closer and saw this chain accident just happened...pieces of three cars everywhere, glasses, and a truck, almost flipped over, was lying by the highway.
we called the police, and ambulance...and then we left, when they arrived.

i feel there was an air, or something empty in my stomach the whole time...i don’t know what it is. i still feel it.

i don’t know where i would be if my mobile didn’t ring...

i hope the truck driver is alright in the hospital now. he was sitting by himself on roadside when we got there. he was ok, he looked ok...just very confused."





we dived deeply into each other's arms, breathing together.
we kissed for a long time.
the light was weakened by time slowly, settling in the room like a shroud.




"you know what also happened today?

my ex-partner called me, and told me she's pregnant.

her name is rihana, and that was seven weeks ago...we were not together anymore.

i think she doesn't want the babe.
i'm not ready to be a dad, either.




it’s confusing.



you know what confuses me the most, zoe?
it's the timing; how these things all come together in one day.
and when i'm back here, you've been waiting...

i have to rethink everything. what i really want. what's really important...



it’s weird, i mean, we've only met a week ago.
and it was the night before your flight.
i was surprised that you still came to have a drink with me, for the first time, in sydney...even though you were leaving for good the next day.

remember the first thing you said to me in the bar,you said you'll grab a beer, but have to go soon because you just found your passport missing on the way to the bar...you laughed. we just laughed. was a good friday night looking for a passport everywhere in the city.
before we got drunk on the street. you know, i don’t really go out in sydney. i meet interesting people, like you, in festivals, far away in the bush. so when i’m back here i just stay home and make music and never know we’ve been neighbors for ages...i wish i met you three years ago, or two years ago...
i like summer. i wish we met in summer.


but i think everything is just perfect in a way.
i was happy, when you canceled the fight in the morning, and stayed for another week...


what's in your mind, zoe?
why do you look so distant now, where are you,
where have you come from..."




"sorry i was just thinking, about my brothers and sisters."

"i thought you don't have any."

"no i don't...they were aborted by my mum.
three of them and two were twins.

i was going to be aborted as well, but she changed her mind in the last minute.”



“is it something you think of all the time?”


“not really...i think,
i’m just trying to say that everything will be alright either way...


hey,
i’m going home next friday, someone picked up my passport from the street and sent it to the embassy...
i got it back now, and i booked another flight."





he asked if i want to go for a walk to the park, where we had dinner last night, on a bench in front of the graffiti wall, when all the people and dogs had gone with daylight.
behind the wall there’s an ancient cemetery, inclined stones, unreadable names, giant trees and native grass. it was our favorite place in newtown.

“no, not so much...” he answered himself for me, with his gentle voice behind my ears.

the rain had stopped, and things reflected a little more light and colors than usual, even in the dark, after sunset, nothing was really isolated from the rest of the city.

he turned on the light in the room, on the top floor of the apartment, and i could still see it from outside.

"Just go to bed, now. Quickly. Quickly and slowly."
— J.D. Salinger