Ptitchitza u niskom letu

I like throwing things into the Maas

De great river on the south bank of which I live. Seeing how it swallows them or takes them up or down. The stream. The river. My own reflection in its murky Green.

Swimming in it is forbidden, it's hazardous to one's health. Like all the cigarettes I smoke in a day. Like all the misery I choose to wallow in, like a pig in shit.

"I hate your apartment", said Maria to me once. It's a nice apartment but I hate living in it. Alone. My apartment is my life, she said or perhaps her therapist pointed it to Her. It's a Mess.

The pain is real. Depainizreal. Isreal, Israel.

Leshana haba'ah... Jerusaleim. Next year in Jerusalem. That's more or less how the Jews have told each other when parting, for two milleniums.

Next year is this year. I claim this year. This year is Mine.
With... or without you, Maria. But with you, my Love, only Sky is the limit and only flying is better than sex, you say that yourself.

Come fly with me, baby. Come fly me, I am yours for ever. I am a Red Diamond wearing a torn green Swedish infantry uniform shirt. My war is not over, but unlike Yasser Arafat I think I have a Vision Beyond It.

Things just look brighter if I see Maria, with me or with. I just want to See Her once in while, is that so fucking much to ask?