Thursday, January 5, 2012


Frozen places, it is time to get out of here. Go to other frozen places, it’s not the temperature that has got me leaving. Taking only a few things, paper and pens; usually leaving the camera behind, I’ll be back again… pack up shop, skedaddle. Turning over another page, not a rip in the paper, I decide to stay, paper gets wet – soggy and heavy, and I start gathering my things – running. Expected and unacceptable, I still book the tickets, rent the space. I don’t double take or waste the stakes. Frozen places, got me running to other frozen places. Perfect company, I urge to come with me. Perfect company, perfectly accompanied, at home and safe. Will you run away with me, frozen place to frozen place? Clock wont stop, we must proceed, people agree and never pack their things. It’s nice to leave. Get away, disappear, physically go – because you all know I’m never really here anyways. And while I’m gone out looking for me, from frozen place to frozen place, if I come back while I am gone, please tell me to wait. Upside down and twisted, never stashed away far from the surface, but scuba diving in other sources. Literature vacations and I am ready to go now, skip town, forget while I am gone, I’ll be back, I am never that far. From frozen place to frozen place. I am losing my way. I am found. I am losing my way. I am lost.

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