we live in myth. safety is a myth. yugoslavia should have taught you how quickly civilazation can fail. there is no safety. there is no security. we all smile blissfully ignorant on the whim of a system error. some of you live every moment without even knowing it. you live in the present and feel bored. some of us live in the past and will never know the wonder of what you consider mundane, and i lie on my couch, in my apartment. and i watch the clouds fly high speed across my ceiling. i watch the sunlight speed across my beige carpet and wish i had something to do. i am a fool. i am the secondary best friend in some cheap paperback novel god wrote when he was bored. and i feel lucky. well, sometimes. but most of the time i am waiting for my next line, counting the pages until i speak again. i sit on the toilet and count the tiles on the floor. i sit in the dining room and count my dishes in the glass cabinet, i sit in the front room and count the number of commercials. i sit on the commuter train and count the number of pages i still have to read in this cheap paperback novel. when i think about you, my nose bleeds. and the blood drips down onto these pages. staining. blooming. colouring. and giving life to these pages. i wonder what you are. really and i wonder where it will lead. i turn the page.