To think that two bodies, crooked by life into question marks, when encountering one another did not form a heart..
To do that, all we needed was to look each other in the eye. But you looked away.

Trust isn’t something you can just one day decide to have. Trust cannot be fabricated out of thin air, no matter how one’s will is set to it. Trust has to be earned. And there’s the tragedy of it, the dependence on the other, who is often not up for the challenge, poisoned as he is by the modern individualistic and time-is-money mindset. And thus trust is losing ground more and more until one day it will turn into something rare and obscure and this world has become a severly violent and lonely place, ruled by mistrust and disconnection.

Do you like me?”
No answer.
Silence bounced, fell off his tongue
and sat between us
and clogged my throat.
It slaughtered my trust.
It tore cigarettes out of my mouth.
We exchanged blind words,
and I did not cry,
I did not beg,
but blackness filled my ears,
blackness lunged in my heart,
and something that had been good,
a sort of kindly oxygen,
turned into a gas oven.

Isn’t that the greatest tragedy? When someone rejects us, no matter how they abuse our love, we hope against reason that somehow they will come back to us.

Such dreams provide this temporary illusion of a life that has meaning.

Onze aarde hangt niet voor niets scheef. Het is een ironische onderstreping van al het zijn op haar bodem.