Day 1864, chance.

When two strangers meet

each other across the street

~

a world of possibilities

implodes

dispersing into nothing

~

we all carry with us

a thousand different futures

~

don’t get attached to much

to the one you live now

~

you might someday

meet someone

on your side of the street

Day 1863, what happened?

I don’t know if you broke

when I leaned against you

~

I didn’t feel any cracks

but my skin is quite thick

~

I should have checked

but I didn’t

~

good by

Day 1861, sculpted.

If I see you standing

like a statue

~

not finishing

where you moved

~

an expression

without words

~

I realize

that I am the one

that sculpted you

Day 1860, a dark forest.

I like the feeling

of looking

into a dark forest

~

there is a silence

like a beginning

~

and a darkness

that slowly turns

to gray

~

I don’t need to wander

in

the staring inside

is enough

to imagine

Day 1859, route.

We like to take the shortest route

why?

~

because we value the destination

the straight line

~

not the detour

a pause

a corner

Day 1857, again.

The tracks from last year

in the field where I sowed

are still there

~

I would be stupid

not to follow them

again

this year

Day 1854, zine.

I made a little zine today, if you like you can print it out on a a4 size piece of paper and fold it like you can see in the video i found on YouTube. Its just an experiment, my thought was to put it in different places like cafe’s and museum lobbies here in Trondheim, so people have something to read and can look at pictures of their town.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zine

Day 1853, starring at myself.

Disorientated I stare at the faces I see every day

like the years I spend there before

where just a dream

I woke up from

just now

~

it only lasted a few seconds

but I still remember this

all these years later

Day 1852, going nowhere.

We wait a lot in life

waiting for a signal to go

~

standing still

with only our mind that tells us

this is the way you go

where you are now

~

where you stand still

Day 1849, prejudices.

I see people walking the streets

staring down a few feet ahead

~

looking for pitfall’s I guess

or averting them

by not seeing the eyes

they meet ahead

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