This is an out take of an encounter I had with a stranger who approached me on a bus in Copenhagen.
He did not introduce himself, all I know of him are these sixteen sentences.
“They are good right, the words.”
“Hah! Important I tell you.”
“Like cannonballs.”
“If you polish and shape them correctly,
they can bring down towers of ideas.”
“You are young, you need the words,”
and they need you.”
“The only feeling that has appeared to survive this century - is self pity.”
“Poetry, philosophy, psychology, mythology, theology, history…”
“It strengthens the mind, like muscles holding a falling building.”
“Keep thinking in feelings, keep polishing your words,
don’t look at me son,
I’m no sight of inspiration.”
“Hahah!”
“Bye my friend, this is my stop
- Not yours.“
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