California scream, final: the whereabouts

Right here, present time.

Shooting stars, at first flying together, only to follow our own ways in the immensity of the skies.

On my usual solitude, I burned in the distance and had my pieces falling here, on this little spot I was given to call home.

Far away from the halcyon days and glorious nights.

The world has been yours to take.

Oh well.

Waters have been falling and following their own course.

So have I, so was I that night.

The bourgeoisie around me would not feel alluring in the slightest.

Around a poorly played piano, they would laugh out of the ordinary things that should not even touch one's mind, while drinking cheap champagne and moving their exaggeratedly fancy clothes.

Such an unattractive idiosyncrasy that sadly does not belong to any particular place and time.

So one should smile and pretend.

Play his part and recreate himself into a dancer, a performer that will move to any given song, to any kind of music.
This may cost him the fair play to oneself – but is one being demanded to be a good dancer or a fair player?

It is time to move to the tune being played, regardless how it suits our souls.

For the stars have hinted us there is better life beyond the horizon.

For the stars have pointed us the way.

For the stars may now bear our hearts.

The dark clouds eventually opened. Sun now shines in its full glory, announcing the upcoming summer and illuminating each corner of my reality.

I look around and contemplate, trying to understand.

And finally accept.

California is now a distant dream.


no actual island was harmed in the writing of this series.