so michel agreed to move in with me for a while. i begged. but anyways, it happened. i like it when things happen. things should happen for a change. so i lit his cigarette and kept mine pending until he would decide what we would talk about.
i was a bit phased out today, and i think that's why we didn't talk much. all i remember is him asking himself,
"what paths have brought us to the point where we are 'at fault' with respect to our own sex? and how have we come to be a civilization so peculiar as to tell itself that, through an abuse of power which has not ended, it has long 'sinned' against sex?"
and me making him coffee. i'm not sure if i was just stalling because i did not want to just agree with him. i think i was trying out a pretentious witty me, while pondering over boiling that goddamn pot of coffee - of whether he even demanded an answer.
i was thinking whether he would like it or not, and whether he would want to talk or not, whether i could keep up or not, but i just poured the coffee in the new little cups i got yesterday and walked to the sitting room. he wasn't there. i walked across the corridor to see that he took a raincheck on my coffee, and just fell asleep. i lit another cig and thinking of tomorow, what to show and what to hide, when to play and how - and if i could stop thinking of the things in his head when this burns out.