Swiss Re, London.
The writing has changed me.
I exhale. I’m blowing smoke-rings into the cold night, and its white denseness engulfs us as we shiver, huddled against the brick wall and inebriated by our conformity. Only you lean casually, posture just right: twisted slightly to the left like some calculated contrapposto, like Michelangelo’s David come to life.
I never wanted to do this. I grew up on my mother’s fears, her warnings ringing in my mind and I have not forgotten them. Even now, their lips tickle in my ears as I inhale, exhale. I’m cool, I’m invincible, I’m one of us. But I am also delicate, easily destroyed and too vulnerable for the pitiless embrace of the hulking, dangerous night. I don’t really know what I’m doing, and the taste of menthol is heavy in my throat. Silence. We are proverbial hunters and victims in this social game, breathing in and out as a single collective entity. We are so beautiful, so stupidly beautiful in our ignorance.
Only you. It is only because of you, and because of them, and because I am afraid of being by myself and the darkness that shall clutch me then. It is a darkness so much deeper than the twilight we stand in now. My fingers straddle my cigarette and my eyes are fixed on you, only on you, as you breathe, in and out, so beautiful in the making of your own ruin. When it comes down to it, I do this only so that you will notice me, make my existence real and tangible, believe in me. Love me. And later, if you wish, you can destroy me.
But your glance at me is only cajoling, amused, and dismissive before you look away. I inhale, exhale, close my eyes. It is funny how, even when we are together, we are so alone.
Washington, 2010, again.
Kingston, 2011. First day of university and, yes, I am by the Thames taking photos of swans.
I’m so impressed by Alex Stoddard, seventeen year old photography extraordinaire. Really, his dedication, beautiful compositions and unique outlooks make me fall half in love. Check out more of his work at: http://alexstoddard.tumblr.com/ or his flickr.
Clouds. Thailand, 2011
Listen to the music. Thailand, 2011
“Still Doll”: yet another sci-fi post-Singularity digital painting, yay! Nay?
Jan A.P. Kaczmarek
If you remember me, then I don’t care if everyone else forgets.