Oasis
Live Forever

THE REVIEW

There is a small window in the bathroom of the shabby fast-food restaurant.

A small window with bars, and from there I see the yellow lights of the streetlamps blending with the leaves of the trees and the darkness of the night.

I'm not really mad at this city. It's not the fault of the balconies and the stairs, the crosswalks and the steps if everything is immersed in this oppressive atmosphere.

It's a sandcastle away from the tide, inhabited by cockroaches.

There is a small window in the bathroom of the shabby fast-food restaurant, it has bars, and the streetlamp lights are staring at the ground. I have to leave.

No. I'm part of it too, and this drives me crazy.

She continuously constructs, fortifies, and destroys her speeches, like a child surrounded by toys. "Come on, it's normal." One of the words that scare me the most. The synonyms of this literal aberration terrify me as well.

"Customary" for example, does not make the bite any less bitter. It reeks of vinegar kicking my brain. I've always thought that if everything is as it should be, then this would mean we are a bunch of powerless people shrugging when they get crap thrown at them.

A thought that unsettles me, that of the supposed normalcy that envelops the natural course of everything.

I do not accept. Don't insist.

I didn't come out of a mold and certainly don't envy that streetlamp with its screws, keeping it firmly anchored to the cement. What I want is just to never change, even though I know that inevitably, events will tend to make me like that piece of iron, also looking towards the asphalt.

"Maybe I will never be all the things that I want to be...".

And I already feel broken, more than bent.

I would like to see the whole world in one glance, traverse continents as if I were the wind, and laugh at those who think they have all the answers at hand.

And I would scream "We're gonna live forever" until the collapse of my vocal cords, under that morning rain that penetrates the bones.