ulysses.

22 April 2012 · by · in blah

Is it for me that I love him,
or is it for him that he loves me?
There is no such thing as a union of souls –
much like there’s no such thing as a unicorn.
Ulysses came home with all his victory and only his dog recognized him,
like me. Only that I have no dog.

I want to believe, like him. But it’s easy for him.
He has no dog, but he has a life. Maybe. I don’t know. I don’t know
him. He doesn’t know me. Because I don’t know me. I doubt. Whether it is
for me that I love him, or whether it is
for him that he loves me.

← PKMzeta.

fake. →

As a result of an auction in Sarah Vanhee's The Great Public Sale of Unrealised But Brilliant Ideas, my bio has become a collective bio:

When they were thirteen, Tintin Wulia and Christiane Berndes wished that Peter Pan would lose his shadow in their neighborhood, because they thought that Peter Pan was kinda sexy. Night after night, they would think a happy thought, wishing that Peter would find them if they could fly. Nothing happened – Tintin and Christiane discovered that Peter had much preferred Wendy.

Three decades later, Tintin and Christiane are still discovering many things. One, that Peter Pan is a fictional character invented by James Matthew Barrie. Two, that the fact that Peter is fictional doesn’t mean that he’s illusory. They are also discovering that, three, it is not a happy thought that one needs to be able to fly – it is, rather, the combination of a passport and a valid visa. And also, four, that the fact that one needs a passport and a valid visa to be able to fly is just shitty.

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