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Wednesday, 10 November 2010

I, she, we

I watch her, she moves differently and she thinks differently and she is not entirely there. And I watch her. I cannot say where I am; I've never been here before and I cannot tell you its name. She and I are connected, we hear, we see, we speak, we breathe the same and yet, I can't understand her. Not now. Not as I drift behind and I watch.

I'm out and she is in; we should be together but something separates us, something we can't see. We can feel it there, like a thin sheet not substantial enough to block out the warmth of our identical features. She is the concrete and I the abstract. It is a wrong sensation, it does not fit with what we know; we do not fit with what we know, we are different.

We move now, together, but still there is a breath between us and we remain separate. We remain two.

In this moment, I don't recall that normal sensation of being only one.

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