The truth is, Valentine's is great for those of us who watch. But there's a thorn on every rose.
Too much happened too fast, like a plot twist in a book. But unlike the reader, I can't go back a few pages to reread and understand what happened.
We've become so comfortable in our own lack of safety having accepted danger as just a daily thing.
I am in step with time and I think that time is surprised, not me.
Now in this city I live in a lonelyhood of numerous ambitious people, some like me, some very different from me but all of us questioning our presence.
Impossibility is sort of phantasmagoria and we go after it not knowing what it is.
In small squares of sticky paper, we write notes to ourselves, it's a private conversation deemed irrelevant with time and isn't that our existence?
This is what adult life is, right? A pigeonhole existence, and nomadic presence.
We never really take the 'new' in New Year seriously do we? I know I don't.
2019 is another Pandora's box we open tonight, so let's breathe easy before facing whatever's inside.