Guest blogger: Mihai Sora
Dear Dale,
I have not written for more than a year. Unless you count birthday cards,
and I don’t count birthday cards. You will be my friend in Italy that I
never replied to after promising him so much. You will my friend in Rome.
Mexico, where the sunsets come with desert and the lazy smell of benzine.
This is the first weblog I have written on.
I worked in a very tall tower today. There are huge bands of windows that
go around the building like dirty glass belts. I work in the fourteenth
one from the top and the fourteenth one from the bottom.
Listen: You can see just about to the edge of the whole city from that high
up. But I didn’t look out the window once today.
I always look out the window – it’s hard to drag myself away. Everything
looks so much like Berlin. You know the feeling. Time dilation. But so
high up, like you’re in an airplane going somewhere. Leaving someone
behind. Returning to a place that's not quite home. That feeling.
You will be my friend in Paris. He’s very good with the ladies. Except this
one, the one he likes. She left him good. He didn’t like that very much,
but he couldn’t really complain.
You will be my friend in India. She’s there for the second time now. With a
new boy. He has a very good name, this new boy. But he’s a real jerk. Like
– American film kind of jerk. The type of jerk you don’t really expect to
meet in real life.
Dear Dale, I have not written in more than a year. Unless you count
Resumes, and I don’t count Resumes. You will be my friend in the Peach
that I said I would write to.
I’ve seen you in real life, fidgeting with the gentle glass things in your
mind.
Mihai.
Dear Dale,
I have not written for more than a year. Unless you count birthday cards,
and I don’t count birthday cards. You will be my friend in Italy that I
never replied to after promising him so much. You will my friend in Rome.
Mexico, where the sunsets come with desert and the lazy smell of benzine.
This is the first weblog I have written on.
I worked in a very tall tower today. There are huge bands of windows that
go around the building like dirty glass belts. I work in the fourteenth
one from the top and the fourteenth one from the bottom.
Listen: You can see just about to the edge of the whole city from that high
up. But I didn’t look out the window once today.
I always look out the window – it’s hard to drag myself away. Everything
looks so much like Berlin. You know the feeling. Time dilation. But so
high up, like you’re in an airplane going somewhere. Leaving someone
behind. Returning to a place that's not quite home. That feeling.
You will be my friend in Paris. He’s very good with the ladies. Except this
one, the one he likes. She left him good. He didn’t like that very much,
but he couldn’t really complain.
You will be my friend in India. She’s there for the second time now. With a
new boy. He has a very good name, this new boy. But he’s a real jerk. Like
– American film kind of jerk. The type of jerk you don’t really expect to
meet in real life.
Dear Dale, I have not written in more than a year. Unless you count
Resumes, and I don’t count Resumes. You will be my friend in the Peach
that I said I would write to.
I’ve seen you in real life, fidgeting with the gentle glass things in your
mind.
Mihai.
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