January 4th, 2012

Home bar, then. To listen what the city is up to. What the people are. There is great hope in sitting on a barstool, hearing, when not waiting for the night on a bench. Alone with all, then. All fast talking, shouting, silencing in a beer, a whisky, a vodka. All walking in a crowded space, touching, eyeing, dicking and cunting.
The city is up to something, all say, many ways. Listen, thus, for your time. Meanwhile mix, mix the bar with a square. Barsquare. Strange of this name ideas flow. But square is – isn’t it – a city form, from within. A city say. A bar, quite the contrary, from away,  hence neat and cosy. A myth.
Square seems dangerous then – for distance. All alone in a square – as if put under test. Speak, to speak. Less talk, less hear. The sky test. If don’t know what speech, how speak, that’s why in need for barsquare. And then, also, a squarebar. Say myth or myth say. In out, out in. To mix.
Yes, one loves a weird thing, or some, at home.

[audio:http://www.martinrach.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/01/dream-the-desert.mp3|titles=dream the desert]

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