barcelona
casa batllo is a shiny thing in the palm of my hand.
time is compressed
jordi smiles a lot and it seems that he cannot contain it all, gesticulation. he says he's in love.
suddenly im alone again i enter a tiny bar, of the squallid kind. four boys are playing dice with the barman, catalan is difficult but not impossible. the barmans name is joachim. they beat the glass on the counter with a certain force and all of this is like a drumming in my head, the shit music, the beating. its a space set a side from the shiny postrain street. i ask for a beer, and then another, and then calm. a girl enters with a stroller and two girls. they order chips and coffee. i leave and the air is fresh.

suddenly im on a train again, the slowest of its kind, it likes to stop randomly for non evident reasons. tiredness, sleep, lack of.

oggi tutto scorre e il tempo dimostra la sua limitatezza e la sua incontrollabilita'. oggi sono seduta sulla panchina dura della estacion de autobuses de cordoba perche' come per un brutto scherzo delle ultime 18 ore passate in compagnia di me stessa aspettando
rigirando orari
nella testa assonnata
non siamo riusciti a far combaciare un incontro.
e poi arriva konso sullo skateboard.
credo che dovrei lavarmi sono circondata da mosche.