574 words flying in a 5-minute cage clothed by French songs I do not understand the lyrics of: I was talking to myself.
It feels like forever since I last saw you here. I thought for once you were never gonna come back. I often wondered if you ever felt the urge to tell me things in detail again, even if it gets confusing—even if your train of thought gets lost in its way at times. But now you’re here. You’re here one more time, and my hope is quickly being resurrected from the dead, like a phoenix who has now been brought back to life after burning in flames. You’re going to tell me things again. You’re going to tell me, whether in metaphors or straightforward sentences, like a storyteller, how you suddenly felt the urge to cry one early morning on the way to work, when you, for a second, swiftly passed by an ancient tree and felt so very grounded by its presence. You pondered for a minute or two how old the tree might be. Maybe it’s much older than your ancestors. It’s certainly older than the sky-high buildings you’re more used to being around every single day. You wondered what the bygone tree would...