what i am supposed to wear? i wonder instead of answering when asked on the verge of this one day, a recollection of these 27 years upon the beginning of a certain cosmic return, 28, they say you are allowed to wear something really crazy, saturn, but i feel the distinguished tendency to hide behind something more discret, descent, the whole sum gathered represented by an amount of tiny parts - an all in all - which they call: me.  i thought i might want it really special, like every year, and evaluate quietly the rarity of this one. perhaps right now it will occur, when i forcedly, without my favourite distractions, must stand up and suffer finally into this wicked confrontation. my head all nerves messaging in false alarm attention-panic through the boredom of normal fairly good kind of life. what is wrong, mr. universe, all boys and girls who built up the city so nicely, why did they forget to leave room for me to watch all your never ending bright stars? your clouds come so near i can never see, when turbulently looking out for maybe a spaceship, the high heights all covered up, thick air assorted into layers, i mean to restructure, systematic atmosphere, retreating projects, small talks and unfortunate attempts of boys trying to get me out on one of these and those for a beer.