A fish inside the water,
I saw it and I thought…
In what shape it was seeing me or in what colour?
Did it know that previous night I was putting a short gun through my throat or that I live days like I don’t belong in this mad fucking world?
I guess it was just swimming.
It was just finding it’s existence in doing what it knew…
There were always some corners where crazy souls could meet and fuck and strive,
there were always some juices left on indifferent pubic hairs.
It’s okay if I find joy in my past…it’s okay if I make mines out of my memories,
it’s the way I swim…it’s the way I do.

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Photograph: Sandra Finan.