lovely time or timely love/the wheels of time or so...

well the yesterday came back to haunt me.
the minutes, crashing into each other while people talk on cellphones in internetcafes and we all share the problems, and then, the minutes get so dense and tense like thunderstorm clouds gathering at the horizon that we think that yesterday comes back, laughing, in the clothes of a tomorrow, that has turned its back on us.
the really cool ones, they don't say it, but they know, are those who don't care. because cool is cold, and who knows better how to survive the heat of overthinking brain-engines than cool freezers?! ah, but, i tell you that the fire will catch up with each one of us one day
as many minutes that we let crush into each other we will pay back later in fine, ironed, smooth, perfect minutes of suffering. love! love is not changing anything, haha, the thunderstorm laughs cynically and yesterday with all its crushed minutes jumps on our head like you jump on boxes. yesterday and tomorrow are friends but not with the fresh mornings. the morning belongs to the sun...

to the different light

the light, that shines inbetween, when nobody looks, and it is different, like a early summer morning in Rome, inbetween earthy colored houses that tell stories of fucking history, not yesterday of our petty little lives, no , keys, works, schools, faded out people, killed ones, loved ones in the routine of the running wheels of time.
but then

love?
you hear a blackbird singing because you have been out all night, your mind clouded, like yesterday clouds with numbing alcohol clouds that sooth the sorrow and the fire and the cool and everything. glasses, they say. so you come home and accidentally hear a blackbird sing

love? ah!!! doesn't change anything? no. the bells still ring. and when you ran down this hill, freely, loudly, happily, you will go back to the same old doors and same old keys and the same old sun.

but the light inbetween, says the blackbird, maybe i should ask again, is like love. it sheds a different life and light on everything. ha. like construction workers sitting on the construction scaffolds (the wooden stuff that they build around the house to get up there) with their first cigarette in the morning look different and so heart breakingly beautiful in this inbetween light although their work is hard and maybe their lives difficult.
maybe someone divorced. maybe someones kid is sick. maybe someone drinks alcohol for all the salary and his wife is bitter and no sex or love. but
in this light ...
that s like love says the blackbird, maybe i should ask again, maybe i didn't understand.
it doesn't change anything says the thunderstorm-crushed-minute-yesterday that pretends to be tomorrow too and if it is very successful it will tell you too, that it is the NOW as well. haha! but it didn't see that that's the point.
the same old routine in the light of love unfolds its beauty

now

never later, when you look again