I never forget the places i've visited, as small as it is, even a simple room, neither the persons i got along with for a while, even if for just one week of vacation in a resort town near the ocean, places and people i would never see again, i'm enclined to experiment, check new angles and new personalities, which can become a recurrent part of my life for some time, then we let go, naturally, melancholy stays in the memories i cherish, but there's a discovery in each step we make, and curiosity fuels me, sometimes i wonder how i could have spent so much time in a place which appears sordid and gloomy in the reconstruction of my memory, or with someone that i recall now had nothing in common with me, but my mentality is that everything and everyone is interesting, i give myself a chance to get close to the difference, and then i go on.
I slept away from my appartment for some time recently, to the suburb in a tiny white room under the roof, with posters on the walls, Kurt Cobain, James Dean, and that french pop singer, bubblegum look and variety, clothes and cardboard lying all over the wooden floor, a small bed under a single window from which i could watch the clouds when i was resting, the disrupting sound of the creaking stairs, and the swampy smell of the wide field outside, the bail is out, i will never go there again, she moved, i remember she poked me with her arms and legs when she rolled over while sleeping, her deep breath and peaceful dark face and slashed skin, the keen discussions we had starring at the ceiling, the lessons and the hugs, and now it's on to a new stage, it has changed, i'm waiting for the next phase.
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