Just for now
Here I am… making a mess around me and eating too much.
Spending days at the computer, just like I should.
I made this in marseilles, I guess. I don’t know where these little pieces of melodies come to my head, I whistle them, or hum them or something. And i don’t know where the sadness comes. There’s a lot of reason to be sad, but there’s a lot of reasons to be happy as well.
On this, i detect some of hope. All of the hopes that I had, have. And yes, it’s sad to let them go… but it was only hopes, nothing really, she says, nothing at all.
When does a thing become a thing?
What creates a meaning?
We do.
And what if you don’t create a meaning at all. What do we have then? Nothing, nothing at all.
This touch is no more real and the meaning that you give to it.
What you create?
what I create?
what we create?
Maybe that’s why, seeing or hearing that those hopes were nothing, treated like nothing, i feel sad.
or maybe.. they really were nothing and all is ok.
Meaning is a strange thing… because only I can make it, only us. Present doesn’t mean anything if it’s not linked into the system of past and future.
What should I give a meaning to?
