And it finally came
And it finally came.
What do you know about me. What can I say about me. What do I feel about you.
And it finally came.
Like a spark I wasn’t waiting for.
It’s as if I was waiting with all my senses for the thunder, after seeing the lightning.
And you catch me in this moment I am ready to listen. And you catch me but I will answer so late, so desperately late, I’m sorry it will be so late.
What do you know about me. What can I say about you.
While I’m looking at that cloud, hoping I will reach my man just to let him see the same swordfish I see, while I’m choosing the music for breakfast, afternoon and dinner, I try and think about the things that matter. Things that matter about me.
What can I say about me just to feel you can feel me, just to know you can know me, though just a little.
Things that matter about me that you will understand. I don’t guess that there’s something you can’t understand about me, however. I don’t think you’re stupid.
I am just trying and imagine things in the same way you will perceive them from me.
It will be just my fault every time you won’t be able to catch emotions from me. Remember this.
It will always be my fault.
What do I know about you.
I must admit you know about my country much more than me about yours. I admire you for this.
I know you do a job that I hope makes you feel everything’s worth living, and though sometimes you throw in the towel, you get satisfied for that time you really make the grade.
I know you love a girl who looks you “just in that way”, “just with those eyes”, and you know, like me, there’s no other way, there are no other eyes.
I know she loves the idea that maybe there are no rules, that maybe there are just your rules, that maybe the weird rules you had in your lifes before you met each other, are the same weird rules you are living in and with, now.
I know we both, you and I, can joke, can laugh, can cry, can smile, in the same moment, for words we said on a stupid webspace, and there aren’t barriers, there are just so many miles, but I think we don’t care.
If you let me take a step forward, there are many things I don’t know. But I assume I can imagine, about you.
I guess you’re a man who can’t be esily defeated. You can go so down, maybe much more down than me, maybe much more down than anybody else, but you don’t give up. I see something I feel can save you every single time: the irony you use to fight life. Or to win non-life. Or to turn mis-life into your-life.
What you know about me can still surprise me.
And I’ll tell you why.
You took out of me some thoughts I had stored for possible future use, for possible unexpected expression. You were there when I was sick though you were not, with a handful of words that hit me full-face as a slap I wasn’t waiting for. You know, maybe they were just words, but a lot of words from a stranger sound like three days embracing your best friend.
Anyway, I can’t speak about me. I would like to speak about you, the things I know. I know I don’t have much about you. But I have just a few thing I like. If you follow me, I will start translating something that talks about what I am better than I can do.
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