I live inside the pool of bottles…
Bottles of different shapes, different heights, different colours… different thicknesses.
And when I am mostly sane…I arrange them like a street full of people,
with limitations and clashes of interests…
I throw in some small cubical cardboards as those pointless automobiles.
In a way it’s not that I own a place in this crazy city but actually it’s the opposite…
This city owns a place in me.
You know there are many reasons to wear an underwear,
but perhaps the most depressing one is that if someone pulls your pants down; they don’t see your moderate soldiers.
Even in dejection, even in complete desolation…you don’t want to break your shits.
These parades of bottles are my underwear for this meaningless existence in this travelling city.

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Image: Google.

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