Smell

I used to walk the same path
over and over
to get to the same places
or different ones
but the path was always the same.
Same concrete, same buildings, same colours.
There used to be a huge sculpture on that path.
Before moving back to by seaside we would always pass by there

a needle, a fountain,
where there carps?
Years later I went back there, to walk and cycle and cross that same path
over and over again.
The sculpture was still there, nobody came to pick up that needle.
The carps where not and I asked myself if they ever were.
It was just a sculpture
it was still that same path
all over again

That morning I woke up like I had something to do
or something that I wanted to do
I went downstairs to get my coffee, I didn't use to drink coff ee back then
when I walked in that smell hit me
it was all of that, all over again.
It felt easy, something woody, something warm and cold at the same time.
Taken out of it's original place, somebody had gone trough my file cabinet full of scents up in my head and distilled that one right then and there in the middle of that busy coffee shop.
I don't actually remember when I started drinking coffee I still don't know if I started to this day
but I know that I had some coffe that morning.

They say time is a matter of perspective, all of my memories already exist then.
For me the weird thing is space, places
I was already here and it was beautiful, I remember the sun and the people and the canals.

That morning I went to the market, right near the canals, I didnt need anything but still bought a lamp.
It was just a lamp, I'm still not sure if I liked it.
The point is that I already went there many times even if that was my first time.

Somebody gifted me a candle, I already knew it's scent
all of my memories already exist
I know this but that smell will never leave my mind.

Yellow

I tapped my card and nothing seems to happen
the train kept on moving,
the conductor looks at me like he has places to be
but so have I.

In the end it leaves without me
I tell myself that it’s okay
I’ll wait for the next one
if it was okay I wouldn’t be waiting here.
It’s always too cold or too hot or
too early or
too late here.

Maybe it was okay, the next one came
picked me up
took me to where I needed to go
but I still forgot what stop was mine.
Yellow plastic seats,
it feels like even the music I’m listening to is yellow,
somehow I don’t mind it, orange has always been my favorite color anyway.

It’s always too noisy or too quiet
but if I stop the noises from my headphones for a second
this time
could be just right.

Was it?

What is this?

Big yellow moon / Half white moon