*chapter 3, where the drama begins

Back into my glory age 15 and its phantasma stories
all that itchy feeling from when I used to wear a watch earrings bracelets necklaces platforms leather skirts lace tops like already being this 30 years old woman
15 years later going straight back there with a Noah’s ark


(few months later)

watching the winter go down from the front seats of a double decker I had this beautiful autumn like feeling at the end of the day: development implies continuity

two guys talking about vegan oyster sauce and vegan chicken pieces (???)

you were talking in your sleep come back with megan fox

and who the hell is meganfox and what are they saying

one bag of mixed mushrooms, they weren’t magic at all but what’s this flavour?

what IS this flavour?


later that day I decided I wanted to write about you and I had a plan I was building my plan like a map
in theory – imperfectly
but when I got to hold a pen I couldn’t do it – so I opened books to find the simplest possible harmonic sequence


It must be exhausting to travel without music / are you playing something in your mind?

I couldn’t find anything so I wondered between libraries
the first one was women’s library (but I’m still on the train – Highbury&Islington such a posh name – high maintenance you once said that you were
but still things aren’t making any sense)


At the library – there was no library
there was this big scaffolding sign on which I could read: sometimes you act like an uncomfortable pair of chopsticks when trying to slurp some noodles but your fingers are butter
my fingers cannot hold you, my hands cannot hold you
sometimes I think I know how to use chopsticks (like when I’m eating the crispy tofu at our favourite restaurant in china town) but then sometimes


my fingers are butter
never mind
I’m taking the train back



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