I have been thinking. Of course you are right when you say I am lonely and that i desperately need someone to talk or write to. an object. and more often than not, the first person that instinctively crosses my mind in such instances is you. which is like ten times on a good day, roughly speaking. taking into account the circumstances, however, i choose not to contact you again. i don't say ever, which would be little more than stupid and melodramatic. but definitely for a much longer time than usually. not until i feel some ground under my feet, to use a badly chosen metaphor.. because least of all i would want to receive your replies, which, being obscenely polite as you are, you would undoubtedly feel obliged to write. it would just pain me. pain me like your smile. i don't know how many times i have seen c-o-n-d-e-s-c-e-n-d-i-n-g written all over your face, making me feel as pitiable as never before. but i digress.
I couldn't sleep yesternight (amazing. i was sure such a word didn't exist. but it does..). I took my clothes on, opened the window and lighted a Kent. and...there was something in the air, for the lack of more original wording. there really was. no wind. the winter chill gone. just trams rushing left-right-right-left on KB street. my head followed the motion, and for a moment i felt almost meditative. and then, out of nowhere, in the middle of the night, churchbells started ringing. churchbells! out of all the possible sounds one might expect at night, i guess churchbells are not the number one option. it was strange. and i tried to breathe in as much of this strangeness as i could. it felt like the beginning of the last chapter. or something to that effect.