I'd almost given up on words Franz, but its your birthday today. I have to, and now when you read it, i'll change it to - i had to, wallow in, scratch - scrub - dig - pierce through this sand and be bright and shiny. For its your birthday today dear friend.
The confusion of being, when seen through the third person is eventful and one can even laugh at oneself for being naive - I've been naive all this time - all this time, now the past - a past so gloriously defining us and our boundaries - forever binding us - and pushing us towards - the end, that cliff which when the soul jumps - the body is pronounced dead. I think all we are doing is suffering for our past - but this your birthday Franz - you validated and approved of my need to sob - cringe - to be weakened and be mindful of a power within me - within us, that grabs, throws us into the mighty abyss. And while i was rummaging through this greyness - your words, you - told me its OK. And today on your birthday Franz - i want to thank you for it - in a mumble, in a corner - beyond the window sill - in the night Franz - i thank you.
For sometimes, when the night is the darkest - you turn black and swallow it.
