Alone you stand with nobody near

A new flat. Rearranging stuff. Stocking up the fridge for a nuclear winter. Trying to get a move on in life. At 24, it is indeed alarming.

The next mission is to obtain a guitar and make a few home recordings. There are ideas in my mind. Two days of conversations with you have flooded my head with new shapes - deformed and changing, ready to be poured into a mould, but until then, mating and reposing.

Here is a little something I wrote yesterday, derived from a picture SdS shared with me. I can't put up the picture because of copyright issues.

----------

Snow-walkers

Je pense à toi

In the snow, many feet deep

there are little snowmen

waiting to be born out of a touch

Waiting for their stick arms and bead eyes

Silently biding time

as we walk all over them with our strong winter boots

mildly discussing the possibility of their existence

Giving them hope

and then, being content with little snowballs

which we throw at each other

Eggs. Snow-eggs!

Look how they smear on your jacket

Look, look! And smile

And after the rampage

A coffee?

----------

PS1: Picture showed by SdS

PS2: 'It's alright, ma (I'm only bleeding)', Bob Dylan