firts sunday in this city

i have been carrying this photo since ages. september is the fall of my return. new beginning. i left the suburbs, my hometown less then a week ago. A return in slow motion. slow motion also the option i wish to find soon on my camera. believe me it felt strange to get a t.v. with 4 station to watch. less C.S.I. less crimes to distract myself. more bikes, even more craving for strangers to talk too. i dragged myself over to the mile end a couple of time for coffee, lasted less then half an hour. i even walk in and left some places without ordering. it hasn't changed at all. the day i saw mister Jordan, an exquisite performer waling on the side corner, he mentioned how calm i appeared to him. truth. everything feels more quiet. i got an old love now a new friend i see rarely to tell me about a new singer. and god knows i need new melody for company. this morning late i rode by a skate park, kids in a row asking me for cigarettes. took pictures again. streets crowded with cops they tell me a grand city's marathon, there was no one running. more kids trashing cups of water on the ground. i was quick enough to save a drop for my beloved dog. i should have been writing all summer on this blog. but i am telling you it takes a second to get used to this comfort zone, never the need to wonder what will you eat for diner. will you ever run out of cigarettes or coffee. i told you September is overture to another chapter. i already rather not see the cruel empty verdict of my bank account. will be looking soon for a job. i got more to create then to go on an endless walking journey dropping c.v. i always hated the formal c.v. talk. i like to talk myself randomly into a new project with someone. i became a loner maybe 'cuz i am surrounded by loner. the truth is most of them probably wish the same thing as i do. to be with someone. to be loved and love in return. if there was no poetry and beautiful images for me to observe i would not resist the taste of death. i just got shit to do before that happen. and i am still convince neither smoking or abused of sugar will drown me to my graves.