on days like these.

4 August 2015 · by Tintin Wulia · in blah, death

On days like these, the flow of air is heavy enough to stop me from thinking, and senses would take over. Even the slightest gesture of tiny utterances would catch me in the deepest hole of wayward nocturne. I wish there are more days like these, more and more and more would take over until I die. Then, in my cavernous nocturnal home, the tips of my fingers will never have to bite again.

← initiated.

1965. →

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.

on days like these.

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