Crazy how it goes. Eastside Gallery, Berlin. 1994.

Crazy how it goes.

Crazy how it goes.

Crazy how it goes.

Sometimes my eyes open another grey, another grey, another grey…day.

And I wonder why

We just go on?

We must go on.

I am not a machine.

One of these machines that fill the day.

The discs that play, the lights thatĀ go on,

Even ‘going on’ involves a switch.

The radio news marks the time,

The bus is running, signals change,

to a rhythm

That we all obey.

The D.J. plays

I must obey.

Music fills the space with expression.

My rush hour.

 

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