on a trial.

I am on the train scrutinizing people faces seamed with the present worries and I wish I could escape from that grey despondency. The air laden with the smell of breakout and despair sigh. Somehow I am one of them and my heart starts to beat more rapidly. And in the end of the trip they may be very happy people. But where do I stand?

At that same moment I wrapped myself in serenity as if I was wrapping myself in a blanket. I imagined myself as a clay being shaped and moulded on the potter’s wheel. I was longing for you to touch the crude material and make something fine-looking out of it. I wish I wouldn’t be so attracted by your seminal singularity, because, oh God, there is nothing worse than maintaining neutrality. It makes me insanely mad. I am not a wall you are passing by. I am the human being and I need to feel.

I give up, take my pride and go away. You know where to find me, dear.

Agnes.