what happens when your own amulet does not work? or maybe it is working- nothing is going too well as always, but nothing especially wrong is happening either. the pleasant vanished as expected but days still have to be lived. i would rather like to believe that the shiny coin has been protecting me from the wrongs. but all that remains now is void. days have become simple. so simple that the life of a plankton is painted with more vibrant colours. enjoyable, leisure days are never simple. take a walk in pleasant weather, chat with people you like, a cup of nice coffee, make your own meal. whatever. but not so simple that nothing happens, nothing can happen.

blame me for the lack of incentive. days and days of waking up late, madly helplessly switching between maniac enthusiasm for strange ideas projects and objects which will be failed in one way or another and desperation resulted from failure and oppression of uncontrollable but irresistible inner rage nowhere to be spent. that is bound to make someone mad in one way or another. but days still really have to be lived. nothing is stranger than keep having to return to a place which you never knew and having to stay for months with people whom you are supposed to know- and you know you do not anymore.

sitting in my concrete box after meal time, after with all my power trying not to pick a fight with anyone or anything i hear and see, i hear a quartet performing a song. not the kind of song i enjoy but a complete, rich piece of composition. i just had another confirmation on how far i have grown out of those voices barely five metres away from me after all these years.

i cup my hands and put them together, tips of ring fingers barely touching, palms facing myself. there is a little crack between the two little fingers. going through that tiny fracture of space and time is the only way to disappear as i wish. no one knows how exactly it is behind the doorway, no one has ever come back- or maybe no one has ever succeed. even if anyone has, with a little help from the goddess herself, no two other sides are the same. staying on this side is fine, i am going to make it one way or another, but given the chance anybody would escape- try to disappear. there is no reason why one would reject the idea of moving to the hollow centre of the world permanently. i found the pathway right there between my palms- the one to the centre of my world. i could even smell it. the smell of the sea, of the forests, of the mountains, of the lakes, of the excitement, of the fear, of the madness of the other side. forcing through the itsy bitsy crack, eyes closed and the next thing i felt was my forehead on the corner of a cupboard.

being dry for two days is one of the excuse i come up with.