passionless milena

first heard in irish pub

I name my kid after her

Bench ads get seen. Supposedly…this is what the bench says. But of course, the bench will say such a thing, because it is a bench, and it most likely sees people pass by everyday, oblivious to the fact that, well, no one truly sees it. I think then, I might have been the first one to notice its words. At first I pitied it. How naive this bench must be, to believe that it holds the power to possess a person, to get them to call the pathetic 11 digit number scrawled quite lazily on its chest, much less to see it. What you fail to understand, I said, is that most people drift through life unconsciously. They aren’t like you and me, those of us who notice everyone and everything, yet do not merit so much as an obligatory glance when it happens. It’s isolating to be with you but not necessarily desolate, I said to the bench, thoughtfully. You see, I wanted it to make conversation with me. To level with me, philosophically. I find that eloquence and intelligence often coincides with loneliness… and well the bench was alone when I found it. Yet, it had something to say. Not a desperate plea but a statement. This I respected. “Talk nonsense, but talk your own nonsense, and I'll kiss you for it. To go wrong in one's own way is better than to go right in someone else's…”

I don’t believe I’ve destroyed my copy of Crime and Punishment, rather it’s already destroyed me…

For the next time you walk without experiencing the texture of the ground, the rain, the wind and the people around you.

Yours truly.