18 jun 2014
Bronzed, blond, thirty-something
The rays of an iron Thursday sunrise licking the steel 'n' the glass of such edifices and Kim wakes up: Kim & the Naked City
good morning Kim.
My mind has been a fucking mess sometime now, who am I? Did I waste too much time?
Too much to even care anymore? Am I immortal, Kim?
What am I, Kim? Could you tell me?
Or maybe I start feeling the "crisis of the 40s"?
Am I afraid, Kim? What do ya think?
She walks barefoot toward the soft bathroom and the cat follows her
the ruthless solar ardor of the East Coast of the USA enters through that window of July of 2014:
hello Kim, here I am, a hologram in your room, an invisible scheme of perfect water speaking words that you cannot hear... and did I tell you that sometimes the "destiny" is bizarre?
More than unexpected or strange: bizarre
or even more than bizarre, yet: grotesquely surrealistic.
Fuck Kim, fuck, fuck: the television man is crazy, Kim... why that shit is turned on automatically according to the tepidness of your naked steps on the floor? Could you...
... could you hurl it through the window of July of 2014, Kim?
I don't want to hear it any more.
And your mind has been a fucking mess sometime now, who are you? Did you waste too much time?
Too much to even care anymore? Are you immortal, Kim?
What are you, Kim? Could you tell me?
Or maybe you start feeling the "crisis of the 40s"?
Are you afraid, Kim? What do ya think?
"Sometimes the cross of your blind mind gets too heavy for my shoulders, Kim, did you know?
This sort of shared responsibility, this blame and this chain, Kim... I wonder if you ever wondered about it.
If you really wondered about me.
Because it's like a sterile dream, Kim, a recurrent dream that always takes place in the same barren land
a castrated dream [and not because of me], Kim."
The fucking rays of an iron Thursday sunrise fucking licking the steel 'n' the glass of such fucking edifices and Kim fucking wakes up: Kim & the Naked fucking City
good morning Kim.
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