tomorrow. part i, john

john’s know how everyone has got their defining qualities? he’s awkward. (at least that is how he explains it) he dearly hopes it passes

he wishes his parents would care a little bit less. preferably, not care at all. then he would do what he wants. whatever he wants. (and it feels like he wants just one thing)

they talk about career future professions stability steady income (and he sees coffee stains, and bellies hanging over the belts and trousers, and people who got stuck in their cubicles, having deluded themselves into thinking that is just temporary. it all is ‘just temporary’.)

they talk about going into med school into law school into strategy and finance (and it all sounds so boring so, so very boring)

his mates are gonna be in design or film or marketing (his mates don’t know shit about design or film or marketing)

frankly, he can think of a few more appealing things from the top of his head. like selling second-hand coffins or walking siamese dogs or being the captain of the ship that sails around the world, spreading chinese-made souvenirs: little big bens, taj mahals, eiffel towers; so that the chinese tourists could bring those tokens back home.

oh how very many words they use how articulate they are

he looks for the headphones

and then he closes his eyes

and there’s a promise in the wind: of things to come, of tastes and smells and smiles and curves.

perhaps he won’t become a captain he doesn’t mind it much. but he will know her skin better than any star maps. he’ll know it by heart

if she allows

he’s waiting for tomorrow.

Katariina Kottonen, November 10th, 2010

Letters to the Editor, January 2011

Being a Student with a Dog