i’m sitting in my usual director’s chair that has my grandmother’s surname on it. i don’t have to turn my head around to see her picture hanging on this – otherwise bare – wall.
the photograph is black and white, with the ageing marks i’m trying to fake on my own pictures, and slightly out of focus, like these moments in life that are long gone and losing in sharpness as time passes.
everything sits still tonight, like everything fell on the right place in order. no particular one, yet in some order, taking the right space.
i’m alone.

i’m not scared anymore.

Iron and Wine is now playing on my computer, “the creek drank the cradle”. i’m listening to this album for the very first time. not the last, no, not the last.
perfect music suits perfect moments.
i keep piling cds over more cds, building towers of hours of music.
i keep piling books over more books. hundred of thousands of words. hundreds of thousands of notes of music.
one day, my piles will fall down, and then i’ll know it’s time for a change.

you don’t choose perfect times, they come to you, and leave as silently and unnoticed as they came.

a candle burns slowly on a shelf, creating light moving shadows on my music and in my room, that i know how to use to pursue my own shadows. i’ve always wanted to frame a candle and its shadows, and now i will, now i will.
maybe i’ll turn out the lights now. maybe i won’t need my medecine to sleep tonight. maybe i’ll chase the angry voices in my head tonight, maybe they’ll go away tonight, maybe they’ll fall in some right place, like everything else tonight.

no, i’m not scared anymore.

if you ask me, if you should ask me, i’m doing fine.
for everything fell in the right place tonight. everything found the right space tonight, and i’m so mellow happy.

and all i want is the perfect picture for an ending.