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Written in the bus # 34
Asfalto en movimiento
y este cielo nunca provoco tanta felicidad
gris
regardless the color...
because I just stopped caring for details
Dreaming is what I know how to do best
atypical self-destructing-indulgent habits
I just do not hang out in general
Je suis-la, happily suspended in the biosphere
in harmony
my bladder is full
and that reminds me that my toilet is blocked
in spite of that, I feel g.o.o.d.
must be that spring is on its way
sometimes I wander and wonder contemplating
the student nurse
the EKG technician
the mexican
the immigrant
the wife
the lover
the chihuahua dog-owner
the vegetarian
the anarchist
the looser
the winner
the adolescentoid
the madame
or the Chihuahua girl...
As cliche as it might sound, I am just a dreamer with no cure
for if dreams are diseases
I am gladly full-blown sick
Right now I can see a gigantic snake navigating in the St. Laurent River
I see a dog wandering in a winter night lost and afraid
I see the sole of my shoe full of shit when I walked my dogs for the first time last year and the snow had started melting down
3337 Ste Catherine
I got off and I am home...
home sweet home