Kin

 A sudden fear struck me, an imminent feeling of dread struck me, names quarried in my cortex at velocities I could not comprehend. 

 I feel a rabid urge of knowledge all again, is this what a recalcitrant and unfulfilling night returns into being or is it just a reminiscence too vague for my obsessive psyque to vandal over, as a phantom I remember those pages.

 Those pages, in languages that are now broken in the glass of my mind, in the reflection of my eyes, languages that spoke to me in slivers and shivers only to understand the symbols yet not the meaning, the meaning of my glance at the images, the images of those doors, those literal doors, and he is known.

 I know who you are, I found your blog, I found your images, I found your stash where you get them, I know where you went and what you manager does, I know your doors, those in the backstage of your concerts and live shows, of those that you and your twisted smile brought to purchase in the facade of cuteness and infantile joy.

 How could I forgive, I spent two days looking at them, disbelief, those doors, grim, dark, obscure, and over all, shut, those were the doors that imagine me completely striped of labyrinths and places to hide my thoughts into, those are not the only ones, but the most prominent, they are what I call a portal, a portal to my dream, to my oniric state of thought where I remember it all and yet not the most important, is that place real?

 It was japanese, yes, the broken speech finally resembled the symbol of a snake, who bite me and my knowledge. And it was of an artist, one with a sidekick on his hand, I know you, I know you so well, I don't know your name still, Kin, Kin was the word that always spurred out as weird, Kin was always capitalized, was that the name? no. It was not.

 First the fire and now you, Kin, the rain? It never rains here, this is my mental state now and your element is nothing but a buffer, I am like electricity, sparky and erratic, chaotic and lightweight, little of what I do influence unless I can get my hold on big roots, then my destruction begins, Kin, what was it. Kin, I know you, I know you by the wrong name.

 Those doors, that name, the droplets you erupt in my field. Those images, those that I found, older than I, from the 80's, from the 90's and from my time, from my age, and I remember seeing you and thinking of you and showing you, yes, that's right, I remember and I get excited, I showed you publicly, in a place that most certainly will never return to my control, nor I would want to be in control of either way. My excitement turned into disbelief, Naka, no, Kin, Kin is the name, not yours, but Kin is the piece. 

 I shall never return to remember, if a vision of a photo I saw 5 years ago can put me like this, I better not remember that time, that one where. Well, I have nothing more to say now. I better not say more.