Going to bed now in a cheap hotel room in Brno, I remembered
that this in its simple form would be paradise to my once self.
The simple achievement of being in the world on my own,
having a bed and a quiet room where to think and imagine life
as I so much feel it in this precise moment, would be Paradise.

Now, too distracted by the world, future and material goods,
relationships, little failures that grew to a big frustration,
family, and just the self in its absolute importance to deal
with this mortal life, I find my self not believing in me,
in my once treasure island of a self and body of work in poetry
and art, music and social activity.

Seems like I am away from me...

Yesterday things were simpler
and all that I wanted
was some quiet room
and a bed somewhere in the world
where I could lead my head to rest
in my dreams and thoughts.

Gods, what do you want from me?