Journeys of Immortality

Souls and nights and dollars and wine

Old songs, new loves - we’ve seen enough of this world to know it all

and yet - we are still hoping for immortality, for an eternal love

She pours us some morning coffee in her small apartment

I wonder how this tiny place could fit all these big visions of hers

‘Dreams’ by Fleetwood Mac plays in the background

She must be wondering what she could do to make me stay;

nothing comes to mind so she pours more coffee, changes the song; whatever she does

I’ll return to LA.

Weeks gone by, her body reeking of masturbation

She’s crying by a diner in West Hampstead - hundreds of people -

Why is it that we’re ever so bothered by crowds and lonely by ourselves - what do we want? Who do we want by our side?

Tonight’s sadness reminds me I used to be like her - surrounded by imposters unable to escape, too afraid to scream, to confess my soul

You see, the thing is - we wait for what it feels our whole life to find someone who’d unravel us and see right through us but when we finally meet them we either fail to measure up, or we get scared

Then we lie about having done ecstasy, pretend we’ve hallucinated the entire relationship, and we squeeze our eyes as hard as possible hoping that we won’t be questioned any longer

She’s still standing by this run-down diner, thinking if there was any chance we’d be immortal then there was definitely

a chance for us

I open my eyes at last - she appears from the sea dripping, I’m nearly laughing at her stubborn inability to let go of me but her joy is so immense that I want her to stay here - under the baking golden afternoon Sun for as long as this hallucination lasts

sadly not for the eternity I was hoping for.