in the void

I'm glad this happened. First of all, there is a kick ass song by Eero Johannes and the touch of a friend through virtual reality and time. Secondly then there is a video posted by someone I know to impress this very friend. As he smokes his cuban cigar there is a voice commenting on how the days of the plight for the black man apparently are over and this voice cuts deep into my flesh and soul, it soothes me and abstracts and distracts and abducts me into other realities. Dreams emerge such as, what if I could have been sitting with them up there on the roof top with a barbecue thingie there and cuban cigars and jokes so tangible. Shallow and happy. Would it have made a difference???? And possible, at the least? That I would like to know....
What, if.
For example, what if I could have just fucking relaxed for a moment. I recall my sisters voice literally a year ago explaining me that he and I might need another break for me to learn how the fuck to relax. I am sorry for cussing so much. It's just, you have to understand, under the full moon light tonight next to the crushing waves on Dockweiler beach I envisioned him in my room and me in his arms and all that stuff, fine and dandy. I didn't expect any of this of course, not to find this music that puts everything so neatly into place, describing so appropriately how I feel. So broken up and so electric and so repetitious and so ... I don't know, flowing.
I haven't been able finding words lately and this just helped me to care less and just jump back on track. Let it go. Let these freaking words play themselves out without shame. Let them say the unsayable. The stuff that needs to be forgotten. The stuff that everyone of course keeps telling me not to think about.
Like, his voice. Commenting on a black man and transcending another life in another living room into the depths of a wishing well that has the full potential of drowning me one day.
It's like. You know, he fell for my depths and then he couldn't swim. So I drained myself so he wouldn't drown and now he is playing in the shallow waters of another sea. It hurts and I am still waiting for the salty rainy waters to wash my eyes, my soul and refill this vast empty void inside that used to be an ocean.
I want tempests and tides, pirates and islands and new shores inside.
I want his breath to be my winds and I want his hands to rekindle the flood.
How pathetic to press replay a hundred times to just hear his voice one more time. It's so much more convenient then replaying his voicemails for example. And also, Eero Johannes makes it seem all so much more acceptable. His music echoes in my vast void and allows my petty dreams to bounce happily like children in sand.
I want to make love to you again.