As I sit here with Ollie sleeping on my lap, listening to Trespassers William, scribbling down words on these pieces of paper, I feel as if with all the poetry I wrote, I've created a ghost town. Although lately I've received some feedback from fellow poets, for which I'm grateful. For now, these are strangers in my life, but I can't talk about this »ghost town« with the people who are in my life. And maybe for that reason it seems like a ghost town, 'cause nobody lives there, and it seems less real. I wonder how readers know me through these poems. How much of me and of my life is in them anyway? And it seems strange that someone I might never meet, may know my thoughts well, while my friends won't?
I love summer evenings. I love the warmth and glow of summer sunsets. I love how it can get chilly in the night and how mind seems to work differently. The things I write in summer are different, probably because the mind seems to stop thinking, fed up with the heat. I love to travel in the summer, drive on the sunny roads, or just sit with someone and talk, have a beer or two... waste the night away. Oh well, those days are scarce.
There are a few songs which are typical summer songs for me, and can sum up plenty of my feelings:
"You are a little mystery to me
Every time you come around
We talk about it all night long
We define our moral ground
But when I crawl into your arms
"What is love, but whatever
Sometimes we comfort ourselves by saying everything happens for a reason. And if that is the case, I'd like to know those reasons at the start... It'd be much easier to go through it all, knowing them. But things happen one after another. And July isn't my lucky month... Last July my left knee got a diagnosis of a suspected medial meniscus tear, and this July my right knee got the same one. And all I know is... I've had knee pains on and off for one year and a half. And symptoms in the right one are getting worse just as they did on the left one. And then I start worrying...but I'm so damn lucky to be alive and not have any major health problems.
I've been reading Paper towns by John Green and I've watched all episodes of Downton Abbey I could find, I'm so hooked...
as was Ollie. I guess in some way, at some point in our lives, we run away from things, we avoid them, take comfort in different things...right now, I just want to drive away, feel somewhat free and alive.