torsdag, oktober 19, 2006


Rain falls. It threatens to drown our city. We move through it, not stopping to seek shelter. Instead we cover our heads, our faces, our identites, and we move. We cannot stop. Nothing must delay us in getting to where we are going, nothing must delay us in going to ... wherever. We are a city in motion. We don't know where we came from, we don't know where we're going, only that in order to get there, we have to keep moving. Seen from above, we are nothing but flowing river of umbrellas.