I’m at the Bonobo show. Opening band, Surrealize, was good. I walked up the stairs and this guy in his 50’s passed me going down. I saw him above me and smiled. He looked away but his hand hid his crotch. I bet he had no idea. It was unconscious. But I see it. I watch these unconscious words and movements of people build a secret language, and it is this langauge I like the most. Only problem is, half the conversations with people, it’s a completely real conversation, but as they move away from it, they start forgetting or believing, the experience fading like dreams.
What can I do. Except keep doing what I do and wait, for someone who can still talk to me and believe in me when dawn breaks into day.
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