I will prevail. They don’t like it when I cry but they can’t see me so I’m crying all the time. Can I be honest with you? I need you. You know, like in summer. Think of lying on a lawn and cloudgazing until they fall apart. And then sometimes a fly passes by. They always fly in funny motions, almost unpredictable. I like that, and then sometimes it’s two of them. A couple, forming some weird geometrical patterns. Twisting, spinning and opening space. Space to engulf your soul in. It’s impossible for us to understand the scope of these events. A microscopically tiny moment in spacetime, a mere trace of reality forming togetherness. For them, it’s the dance of life though, the expression of oxygen surrounding them like a blanket. Lovers, friends, enemies, they will never confess, as capitalism only lives for them in the moments they suck our blood.

The lawn holding my body with the tender, velvet green hug of understanding what I am going through. My tears first resisting gravity by crawling upwards, only to then seep into union with the space that was occupied by dew earlier.

I’m laughing. Isn’t it funny? A lot of days you choose to rest and the other days you choose not to. Head in the clouds, I worry about nothing. No one can do me harm there. I mean my body falls apart, the same way the clouds do, and I am alone but heaven is only so far away, you understand? Like the flies I mentioned earlier, we form patterns to lose ourselves in, like the leaves of a tree we have to let go at one point in our lives, like the sun we are always in motion, so how could anyone do me any harm when I am happy in your arms?