Satellites (How We Orbit).

Winter is here. I take in my first snowfall with the drag of a cigarette. It’s tradition. The hot, toxic, blue smoke mixes with the coldest air of the year inside my weathered, disgusting, blackened lungs in such a way that I come back for more every 12 months. 

My lungs are filled with smoke.

Spectacular.

There is a quietness to Winter that I love. There is a mystery to these nights that comes out when it’s cold, and when things are hiding. Sleeping and trying to keep warm and not make a sound because Lord only knows if we’ll ever see the sun, or the warmth, again. And it is comforting to me. All of my changes took place here.

All of my skin-shedding, metamorphasizing, fantasizing, disappearing, reappearing, creating, hating, loving..

I was The Traveller.

I saw many people on my way to where I am. I will see more before I get to where I’m going. I heard many stories, and many songs. I was in love more than once, and had my heart handed to me for it. I fell and as I fell I felt myself feeling like maybe I had become someone else along the way; someone I could recognize only marginally.

But when I look at my shadow on the ground, it’s still this Traveller and the light that does not pass through me casts an impression across the Earth. Is this what you see?

Thin. Long legs and arms. Messy parts of hair that sail in the wind. Shoulder bag, waist-coat and earphones. Hands in pocket. Shirt tucked in to keep out the cold. Jacket collar up.

I’ve spent a lot of time here.

Mostly lonely.

But now that I’ve revealed my position maybe someone will find me. I’m sending up smoke signals. I’ve almost finished my raft and I think it will carry me far away from here, and safely too. I have spent days and weeks and months gathering up tiny rocks to spell out "I’M HERE AND I LOVE YOU" in words big enough to see from the sky.

Because I want to stop travelling and wandering and changing and morphing. I want to be more than My Holographic Self, and my legs are tired from walking and looking for you. Where the hell have you been? I alternate between feeling like I’m RIGHT ON YOUR TAIL and you can’t be too far off to kind of wondering if maybe you’re real at all? Or if I’m just starting to get a bit batty.

It’s almost 6am.

I wonder what it’s like outside…