Below conversation was over heard between a girl in her late 20's and a guy in a very realistic dinosaur suit in motion in LA museum: _"Oh my God!!! Is that real? It is real, right?" she asked her friend. _"I am not real." dinosaur replied as he brought the nose of the dinosaur closer to her ear to make sure nobody heard him. _"Shut up! You are real." She insisted. _"Would you go out with me?" _"I don’t date dinosaurs." The Surprise is: I am that girl, only that this conversation has never taken place in real life. It was an imaginary scene, a fragment of my imagination, after seeing a video of the real life like dinosaur puppet in LA museum... Billy the "I don't date Dinosaurs"
You show each other the interesting items on the stores' window displays as if they were the most astonishing happenings that you two could witness. And then you walk more and more. Do you talk? Does it matter? You are lovers. You love. You hold the significant other closer to yourself, you occasionally skip a step to synchronize the out of sync walking pattern. And you laugh at it, heartily. You look at each other, with love. The girl puts her head against his shoulder as they walk. Even long after she realizes that the position is quite uncomfortable in walk, she keeps her head there, either to avoid a misunderstanding aroused by her quick draw of her head meant that she didn’t like him whereas she just was not comfortable. The latter being the truth, she holds on a little more to ensure that no misunderstanding would arouse. You are happy. You breathe each other. You try to touch unconventional skin parts, like the inner part of the elbow, or the lower vertebrae, or the ear lobe to claim wholesomeness in your ownership. After a while you realize that you cannot keep your hands off of each other. You excitedly run to the street and hail for a cab. Hastily enough, a cab stops. You get in, giggling. My place or your place? billy or kid
Watching kids saying all the wrong things but still able to fall in love with each other. they don't see the rest of the iceberg hidden underneath. They dont even know its existence. They are young, they are kids. Their pains faint quickly, memories dissolve, good or bad. They look at each others eyes, and that all it matters to them. What do they see there? What do they hear? What do they say? How many 'i love you's will it take to unscrew them? No Billy no Kid
WE have this heart and we don't know what to do with it. When we constrain it, it rebels. When we set it free, it gets itself and you hurt. We have this heart and we don't know what to do with it. How can we learn to cooperate with this heart? How can we live in peace, in one piece maybe with a little chance of happiness here and there? What to do with this heart so restless, so young no matter how old and tired you are? This heart throws you off course, into a ditch by the road you made for yourself. Yet, you have to get up, pull yourself together, caress that heart and go on. How one can learn to deal with that heart s/he hardly knows, understands? This heart has its own entity, own space in you, claims more and more as it aches. You cannot get angry with that heart, you cannot hate it, you cannot blame it and you cannot leave it behind. In the end, no matter how much it hurts to have a heart, you have to own it. Make it your own. Billy the Kid
What do you prepare when the time to go approaches? Do you cook a meal? Try to cut a deal, with devil? What do you do? Throw away your watch, throw away your TV? What else can you throw away? You remember those friends you accused with horrendous crimes mentioned in the law book of friendship. You remember how unfair you were, how mean and selfish and wrong. You cringe. You remember life and all within. Do you feel relieved to let go or stressed in the failure of it? Do you remember everything or just the aching, maybe some happy moments, lingering. You remember music. How good it was to you! It was the only thing that understood you, you understood it. It was always in harmony. Do you care for a last piece of music before you went? No, you wouldn't dare, because you know more you listen, more you want to stay. It is better you go. One cannot live on music. But you need to reach out to be reached at. Reach out. Breach. Beach. each. itch. You need limbs to reach out, you need arms and legs and hair. You cannot reach out with just a heart, shattered in pieces. The time to go is when you know there are no more corners to turn. When you see the vast emptiness in front of you. When you no longer feel the heat or the cold. When you no longer look outside your window, for whatever reason. Happy people don't look outside their window. You are not happy though. Are you? Billy in the Kid
