sometimes when I am walking with my earbuds on, oblivious to people and the noise of the summer in the island, I think that if you squint enough, the old town, the palm trees and the colours of the sunset can turn into a Pierre Wininger landscape, as we read of them in Metal Hurlant long time ago, lying on our beds and the memories feel so distant and warm and familiar, and so unreachable just like the dreamy scenery before your very eyes turn into ordinary life, shapes and sounds as soon as you fully open your eyes. so close yet so far away, so long time ago.
