Should you persuade yourself that the moment has passed
Perhaps no second chance will ever trouble your door
Regret is a patient sovereign
In time it will claim every corner of your darkness
The saddest thing of all is that you cannot believe in yourself.
Purya 🐰😈
It feels as though something has torn itself free from within my chest
The quiet need to be no one but myself keeps swelling like a balloon
Perhaps it has always hoped to discover how the sky is entered
Purya 🐰🪿
On hot days one begins to long for a cooler wind
Now and then a gale arrives strong enough to scatter every joy and every sorrow alike
Perhaps such tempests are the price of creating something new
As for me a small fan will do perfectly well
Purya 🐰💨
Ask a local and Fukuoka is one of Japan’s three great cities
Statistics insist it is fifth
Either way Hakata and Tenjin are where the city truly lives
Master the Nishitetsu buses and order your ramen barikata
The rest tends to sort itself out
Purya 🐰🌏
The pageant fades
The dream remains
The story walks on
So you are leaving now you said
I still do not know what one calls that particular sadness
Perhaps the music of Africa will hold you more gently than any farewell of mine
Perhaps that is simply how Africa says goodbye Purya🐰
No measure of sweat or tears can bargain with a dream
One lifts one’s head and walks on
Perhaps dreams allow themselves to be approached but never promised
To face the possibility that nothing may come of it and yet continue
Perhaps that has always been enough
Purya 🐰🚶🏻
Why are you crying
I have not even begun to weep
Perhaps this is less synchronicity than the quiet contagion of feeling
It may simply be that those curious mirror neurons persuaded you to feel my sorrow before I did
Purya 🐰🧠
Today I asked the Green Siren to leave out the passion
I sometimes wonder whether presence and absence cease to oppose one another once they become too abstract
In the end it was merely a Mango Frappuccino
Purya 🐰🥭