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.:Tuesday, May 17, 2005:.
The harder they come, the harder you come this way.

Ron pa’l que quiera

Ron pa to’l mundo.

If I came this way, taking the route I would be likely to take. From the place I would be likely to come from. It wouldn’t be the same at the end of the journey.
This is the spring time, but not in time’s covenant.
I get suspended in time, reflected in mirrors.
If I came this way in may time, I would find the hedges.
Red again, in May, red tulips, with voluptuary sweetness.
I’m not predictable, ash on an old man’s sleeve.
I don’t deny sacrifice. I accept change.
Smells in the air suspended, suspended in a restaurant downtown R’dam.
Smells mark the place where the play changed its characters. The Story is not over.
If I came again, I wouldn’t be myself no more. Not this way. My route is not yours.
I came at night and you did by day not knowing what you came for, not expecting my sense and notion. We left the rough road and you save that for your American Dream and save me for when you (day)dream again, cause darling, (I’m afraid) that’s how far we are gonna get.

Face forward, traveller. Don’t scape from the past into different lives or into any future, you are not the same person who left that airport or who will arrive at any terminus, and I? I’m not the same person you left with the coffee on the table. I’m able to pay the check. We shall not look back and we shall not think: “The past is finished or the future is before us”

I shall toast in your name, that sounds like alcohol and smells like hangover. Bittersweet.

If I came this way, I would come harder the other way around.

.:Lo wrote this at: 12:07 PM:.