I start going East, 2012

I stop and look for you. In my mind she fucks you and I am disgusted, and feeling sorry for both of you. I turn the page of the book I am reading on the train going somewhere and realise it has not yet been written. I think about ways of writing myself through the spectacle of everyday life here in different locations. I observe a detail on a building and this detail follows me throughout the day. Now it is night and I still see the exact detail as if in daylight. I am on a hilltop, being pushed from it by soldiers and Orthodox people over and over again. I wonder what someone else would have done in this situation – maybe written about it? I continue to climb the hilltop as if obsessed with reaching the top, knowing this is completely irrelevant. The soldiers hold hands as if in a fairytale – I feel their body heat and the force of a push, which makes my way downhill faster than anticipated.

I was there and watched myself as I stepped further into complicated matters. Later we were discussing whether complicated was a positive or negative term.