THURSDAY IS BLUE

I’m sitting in my hotel room watching people rushing by. They look like dots from up here. I can’t see the contours of their faces or clothes. I can’t see if they are smiling or crying or laughing or dying. I’m completely helpless. I can’t do anything heroic from up here. Instead I’m smoking, I’m dying. In a couple of hours my plane leaves for London. I called the boy and said I couldn’t meet him, I suggested he would run away to London with me, he said he couldn’t. 

I wonder whether happiness ever exists longer then for short moments?  I have felt happiness; it is like lightening shots through the body. But then it disappears and life is blurry and filled with dark chasing shadows. You can never escape them.