In my mind, there is a sandbox.
In the middle of empty space, great like the outer space.
Thousands and millions of data streams floating through the space.
I grab them and direct them into my little sandbox.
With bare hands, god-like, I transform them into light, pure energy.
Create patterns to visualize their frequency.
And I build monuments of thoughts, not with stones, just with patterns.
to the mornings
in search of purpose
cheers, for getting a day closer
to the midnights
you ruffled through sheets
instead of sleep
cheers, for feeling the 4am vibes
to the friends
who turned their backs
at times of holding your back
cheers, for finding the real ones
to the places
that remind you
of bittersweet times
cheers, for not crying this time
to sun and rain
to love and pain
for still keeping up
through every inch
for giving yourself
for never growing too old
to believe in silver linings.
The road was long. In most moments we fought boredom, didn’t we? And we won. So we are here. I won’t regret a thing. Like you.
Remember those days we pasted up stickers all over the town, some works still to see. Think of us djing in dark locations until sunrise (What happened there, stays there, oh, my beauties, oh, wet walls…). Or imagine how we performed poetry in front of the working ministry, including laughing unemployeds. This was my story but now it’s ours.
We got children. Some are ours. Some are loved the same. Or are older than we both together. I have no clue of what I am talking about, that’s why I am wiser. Come into my arms and feel warmth, sister, brother, forever alien insecurities.
May the future judge, some content analysing bots or just the dust in the wind. Our hearts pump, it’s their job, blood. Your hearts may jump, that’s their will, pressure. The world’s music moves us on eternally. Everything will be alright, as long as we go d’accord.
Original picture by Oliver Ritthaler. Edit of picture and words by Jonathan Falk.