it strikes me in the evening, as i am sipping my 16th coffee of the day, i wonder, what do i keep myself so relentlessly awake for? i make up a new world every single day, naoko book, common book, rewire the website, raise a few birds from a blank page for your liking, sure it’ll work. i work best when i am being traced and watched, if not for the general safety id post my home address in here, just to get the chance to be watched. so i can perform. i park my car near the nearest exit, so the very bored person could stumble upon a diary resting on the front of my car, under the window. a specific page is wide open to the world. i rarely get any views, i invite my judgement. the front page says

after tonight, whats left of you is you / moving into my dream, outside, the horse hooves / stomping on the ground, the dust moves / no sorrowful songs for me unless i am drunk. i am drunk. forgive me that i couldnt bear to see you off / vanishing with the sun. alone with the west wind and the moon.

im no good at goodbyes, i put last minutes into my golden box and leave it all at that. i continue my days well enough for you to think about me, moderately. anyone. i leave a half empty cup from my coffee at the front door, for you to guess, why didnt i finish it?