while most are sleeping and not looking for memories. In blue light the ghosts
of insomnia chase me, this way, then change direction. when I am hiding in blue
light, because I remember. The blue light. They chase me out of fear, and I run
to convince them I am not spying on their daughters, wifes, sisters at this hour,
in blue light. It does, they do. The blue light I discover must be turned off. But this
will not convince them. While most are sleeping, in lights that are not blue. One of
the ghosts tries to make me smile, tries to convinve me, there is something
funny, but I have chosen not to laugh without blue light. Without blue light two
of the ghosts have gone away and assured me the blue light won't arrest me. There
might be cause not to get caught in the blue light. There were not 4 ghosts of insomnia
I lied. But there was blue light. Momentarily, jumping on a strange man's voice
and a piano in the rain. An old man speaking in the rain. What a speech, he adresses
the rain, in a voice that more or less talks but also listens. It was an idea about blue
light . .Looking for memories I can't find and some I can't loose. One of the ghosts
is still with me. I am indecisive about weather to keep him. or not. What would sulphur
say? I created ghosts to make this text interesting. And the blue light as a theme because
at the time it was effective. but since then i have changed. Im not so convinced. You
are an idiot in blue light. in most lights like blue. i can keep my cool. without making
a big deal out of it. or maybe there were more than four ghosts.
what I just learnt from the past 1 minute 30 seconds. has changed. the text sometimes
forms complex equations. sometimes getting caught in the wind of saddness. that
momentary breeze. what the text set out to achieve and what it discovers to itself. in 2.46
minitue long spaces of transformation. you are there when the text starts dancing. it's no
empty thing. It's nothing that won't discover itself in the avenues of time. yeah, yeah.
in the space between stars, all memories count. themselves in. themselves lucky.
struck by the distance between stars that guides us.
