i suddenly remember a girl at my young_school. she had long, beautiful blond hair, her eyebrows also blond – that fascinated me, so unusual. who has blond eyebrows? she was not nice, but maybe she was just shy. i know i’m not nice, and shy.
the lights on the ground keep going further – i’m distracted, the van zante’s paws at the gate got me in a bad mood, they always do. paws. some of them have sharp nails, we all met them some time or other. all paws and no brain.
i lose the yellow lights at the jon_chico corner – too many people, and i digress. my sidelight_sidetracks – as always, under stress. i never learn, maybe i’m just plain dumb. no, it’s not that – i refuse to learn. some wicked_resistance here.
i stop and look around, first at the faces that flow relentlessly, all this people passing by without ever touching me. their blank faces mirror mine. micro_expressions are dangerous and easily picked by :eye: and eye_contact isn’t fashionable for many seasons – tolerated, more like. it depends on whom you got mirroring, that is.
i check the ground for the yellow lights but can only see as far as half meter ahead, then it disappears under the crowd. i’d need to go step by step, difficult in the flesh_flow. if the current_current catches you, you have to go. one has a purpose in this river: be a drop, go smoothly along. no wicked_resistance possible here. if you do, the flow will hurt you. the new_news are filled with death by flow_resistance. wicked
i try to check all the 3 possible directions at a distance – maybe if i wait a bit the lights will go far enough for me to see them – there or there, up or down the hill – i’m sweating now.
the other option would be jumping in, and back, if necessary. none misses the jon_chico corner anyway. i should move, :eye: is watching me, and i had eye_contact 3 times already, not pretty. i’m sure i was scanned by the guy with the hot_orange hair, red tie – what an ugly piece. all with all is bad enough, but eye_spies are the worse kind – hollow_stuffed_men.
i step into the flow and let go. the lights go with me – well, ok – through the first 4 blocks, straight ahead, then i lose them again. i stop in front of a pop_shop, and regret it instantly. i’m taken into an overcrowded great hall, people’s arms moving above their heads as if they were a wheat field in the wind. goods, all want goods. the wicked_resistance calls it bads_not_goods.
the only way out is on the other side of the pop_shop. there goes the flow – but not the yellow lights. outside again, wrong street, and yet. sometimes life’s too much to bare. i need to concentrate: find xenia, she’ll know, she always does. i’m still angry, and my anger is wearing me.
“..but i rather wear my anger..”
“oh, i’m sorry, ehm, i was thinking out loud.”
“u says da wrong_word.”
“what – no! amber, i rather wear amber – ehm, i love amber!”
we have eye_contact.