~ east? east is everywhere, indeed ~

a cloudy sky over umeå that hadn't yet known

i am the woman dancing to the post-punk band in der himmel über berlin, i am her voice, i am her everything, i am. she worked in a circus, i live in one.
and still i don't believe her when she's dancing. it's because she knows she's beautiful, she's thinking about it - the only difference between us. i never do, i only am, the most, when i dance. and dance is water, you must not think then. to think is to drive a rock across its stream.

dear bresson. if art lies in suggestion, is this the reason why happiness doesn't belong there?

es gibt noch andere sonnen, als die oben am himmel