How my hands tell a story | Night and day
I’ve convinced myself of the smallness of the world.
Actually, it is small if looked at closely
and it can be big from a distance.
Not the other way around.
Time is not numerical.
Another lie I’ve been told.
Time is yesterday, today and tomorrow.
More than that doesn’t matter to me anymore.
It matters when the sun comes up
and goes away.
I only know these two times
and people find me strange for that.
The rest is another lie.
Distance is long and short.
If you want to number it, it’s your problem.
It is long if I stop to see the sky.
Otherwise, it is short.
But the latter doesn’t matter either.
Why wouldn’t I look at the sky?
Text: Mostar, Bosnia and Herzegovina, August 2017 | Drawing: Sarandë, Albania, September 2017
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