Author: D. K.
The smell of grass
The smell of gasoline
The smell of garlic cooking with just a touch of olive oil and herbs
Tuna sandwiches
The change of seasons in every breath I take
Smoking cigarettes in winter while your whole body freezes in pain and coldness
Smoking cigarettes in the warm and sunny beach after a long swim in the ocean
Smoking cigarettes anytime
The ocean
Its salty taste, the aggressiveness that gets in your eyes, your nose, your skin
Rainbows
Trees
Birds, how they walk
It’ll always make me smile
But also dogs, yes
Dogs
Driving in the city, at night
Thunder when in bed
Sex
Radiohead songs
How they understand me
The fact that it could always be worse
My sick father
My dead mom
Movies
Terrence Malick’s existential dread that is present in each of his works
Paris
Oh, and Spain
Yes
Gregorian Chants
Flamenco
The hope that I will once understand the lack of meaning and fulfillment in my existence
Tolstoy and Dostoevsky books
Poetry, any kind, any form but poetry
Van Gogh, O’Keefe and Hooper paintings
The hope that one day I will taste the lips of that blonde girl on the 9h37 metro
Mozart’s Requiem In D Minor K.626
Italian girls
The fact that I will end up dying anyway
It’s too expensive
Too messy
Too lame
Too frightening
I still haven’t brushed my teeth
Yes
Those are fine reasons
Today?
No, not today
Tomorrow?
Tomorrow is another day
And I, and the morning light, we will change