tu

it happens to me,
when i really like a person:
i talk to her/him, thinking she/he is inside of my head
that's why i translated an entire piece of letters (i mean part of a text) for you,
but you never knew that.

and even if that was my wish (to tell you things)
probably, i won't tell anything to you; never...
because i don't really love you.
because i never told you anything.
because i don't really know you and you don't know me... and at this time, does not mind if you know you and if i know me.
becasue there's no real way for me to do it.
because i'm just writing, comfortably writing it, and it seems like i'm not doing anything else.
life is so strange at this moment..... i didn't want to find you, i should have been studying hard...
well, may be i wanted to find you but the thing is that i didn't know, and i don't know,
and nothing of these things really matters
you are so far away, and i won't tell you anything of these


drawing by Red Bone Slim (aka Bianca Casady, aka Coco, aka Mad Vicky López)
from "The Voodoo-EROS Cultural Committee presents: 'RED BONE SLIM VS. ITSELF' - an exhibition of drawings - from "the elusive visionairre RED BONE SLIM, comes ...in full color, a world of diabolical objects, manimals, and religious icongraphy, obscured through the peeping tom kaleidoscopic rainbow of a child", March 9th thru April 14th, 2006, at the The Voodooo-EROS Museum of Nice Items, 123 Ludlow St, NYC - aka **AFF**"

i think it again, and it may not be important