Hang yourself above O’Connell Street, will ya? by Soy Dublin
Inside the box of light suspended in the darkness. I found myself in the space I did not believe existed. In the room high above O’Connell Street. I felt suddenly self-conscious as it was getting dark and there were no blinds to observe and stay unobserved. The scene was made from concentrate; lifted high enough to fit half a street into my field of vision, the fast moving lights and noise of traffic mingled with human voices pulled me inside the eye of universe.
On note-taking, by Soy Dublin.
‘LIFE. unplugged. Takes you where no laptop can go’ shines on the crisp, neat small notebooks I was given recently. I am delighted about the present, not sure about the slogan though.
Dublin moves to Ballycotton. Temporarily.
Those blue tinted windows of a Cork – Dublin train. Quite fake with truly cinematic effect. Only I am in no mood for movies. The tint reduces the journey to points A and B (or C and D) and a vacuum in between, so well-known when travelling by plane…
Birth of Snow. Birth of Solitude.
Birth of Snow. Birth of Solitude. A sudden frosty air bites my cheeks. I am on my way home, cycling from Crumlin to Milltown along the canal. My head is full of entangled radio waves…
Soy Dublin
I am sitting at my desk thinking of my friend lets-call-her-Matilda. I am at home and the rain is falling inside the cat litter tray, on the yellowed crumbling leaves, on the weeds on the balcony (my only crop this year) and on my thoughts (of Matilda)…
Recent Comments