a letter from my unconscious

Cypriot!

*where are you?!?!* i don't even know why we are together, but we are, on a train to moscow. we arrive, and have tickets to see the opera. as soon as we get off the train, you disappear, with your camera. it is foggy and damp. i find my ticket in my pocket, and worry because the stub is already torn off. but i have both parts and they let me in. it's not the opera, though -- it's tori amos, playing with someone else, to a young crowd. in the middle of a song, people start joining the band onstage, two at a time, and vomiting. it is the strangest thing i have ever seen, and i leave. outside the auditorium, people are wandering around in puke-splashed clothes. the smell is awful. i don't know where our room is, but some guy tells me and i go there. your things are there, but you are gone. i pick up your phone, and see that it is full of txt msgs to men i don't know, telling them how you love them, describing some location where you say you will "make it my base, and i will soul and mate from here." what is wrong with you, i wonder? why are you so callous towards me? why did you come here with me if you didn't want to be with me?

i don't know what to do. i think that i will take your phone, throw it into the cold river, and when you return looking for it, i will tell you i don't know anything about it. we were supposed to see the onion-shaped rooftops together. and now you are gone again.