Your white skin with sun spots, your never-ending questions, your care at remembering things. Your red nail polish and your openness to new ideas, hovering around me while I sleep, visiting me in my daydreams. I like spending time with you and I sometimes wonder how I got here, waiting, for the next time I get to be near you.

She demands me her name, she looks for the cracks and they are there, she looks down the abyss and finds that it’s deep and terrifying. I’m there, with everything, the good, the bad, I’m naked and she is still holding her cards close to herself. I’m sad, I feel that she is trying to find a fault. I wasn’t enough and I’m not sure why, I wish I had known, I wish I had more time. I wish I could have taken it slowly. I hoped that telling all the things at once would make it easier, but there are no shortcuts, it’s either the long, winding road, or nothing. I got the nothing and it hurts, and I’m now afraid it will take forever to recover. I’ll miss her. Fuck, I will really miss her.

Is it her? Is it not? Am I making a mistake, thinking of her? Am I just chasing another dream? I’m too tired for this. I’m only here for a short while. I’ll be gone and then there’ll be nothing again. Just emptiness in this vast space, with almost nobody caring. Why the hell am I doing this? I wish I knew. I wish I knew.

Letting go is the only way to get there — where there are no goals set is when there is the most to be had. Merry Poppins. Loves them, gives them as much she can and then lets go. Maybe there is something to be learned there. She is sorely missed. I miss them all, all my Merry Poppins. They were beautiful and endearing and life changing. But it would be nice to have someone stick around finally.

With tuppence for paper and strings
You can have your own set of wings
With your feet on the ground
You’re a bird in flight
With your fist holding tight
To the string of your kite

Oh, oh, oh!
Let’s go fly a kite
Up to the highest height!
Let’s go fly a kite and send it soaring
Up through the atmosphere
Up where the air is clear
Oh, let’s go fly a kite!

When you send it flyin’ up there
All at once you’re lighter than air
You can dance on the breeze
Over gouses and trees
With your first holding tight
To the string of your kite

I feel empty now. Disenchanted, tired, lonely. I’m making money, I’m getting better at what I’m doing, yet at the same time, there is nothing to do it for. Nobody to share it with. It’s difficult and I wonder why.

How beautiful. How much I had to give. Seeing people being in love. Remembering our times. Being safe next to you. How amazing it all was. Incredible, that I was there, that I could experience it. They really were the best times in my life.

I just realised you were just like Emma in Blue is the Warmest Colour. Charismatic, wild, sweet, smart, and unattainable.

I just realised, the last time we made love, first after a long while, you told me you loved me and I told you I love you too. It was a magical moment. I miss you.

Your amazing body above me, juice dripping from your sweet pussy, drinking your juices… You were incredible and so giving. I miss being around you and it was just two evenings, just one night. Making you come was one of the best things. Made me happy. When you were giving me pleasure and just came in the middle of doing that because it was making you happy to make me happy, that was when I realised that I’ve been with the wrong people. Realising that there is someone out there who is like me, enjoying giving the other pleasure so intensely that they come from it… It was very powerful. Thank you. I’m so happy I spent that time with you.

I loved your art projects, you know. The way you looked at what’s around you. The way you loved your cat. Funny, kind. It’s weird because you called me generous, and I thought it was you who was generous. Letting me peek into your strange little world. I watched a film afterwards, I felt like I can take something more difficult, and I saw I, Daniel Blake. I didn’t know but it was the one you described, about the heart attack and the guy being denied benefits. It was by Ken Loach, who you recommended me, something I found out only after I saw the film. It reminded me of the coincidence of The Blowup, our walk in the park. I thought about writing you then, that this is weird, but maybe it wasn’t weird. Maybe you gave me the space to take on a film that’s more difficult to watch. It’s been a while I saw something that difficult. Thank you. I miss you.

Hrabal is someone I always felt close to. His characters are clearly crazy but also immensely human and humane. His insanity has its own rhythm, its own strange and beautiful logic, one that connects rather than divides, one that celebrates human failure as a form of an attempt at reaching towards the higher form of ourselves. That humanity, humility at the greatness of what it is to be human, is what draws me near him. His tales are like songs that never end as their soft lullaby stay with us forever.