(actually)

i would like to remember these things later,
but you see, you cannot just write down these things,
you can't just line up the details and facts and think it would be enough,
one cannot grasp those flyby colors of the emotional backgrounds of the words or movements or landscapes,
the flyby feelings you could never name or put into words,

and the sun might start to rise in a new city and you might have a perfect sentence rising up from somewhere,
but it simply does not compare.
nothing compares,
nothing measures up for the real thing,

because of the rawness
because of the speeding up of the heart beats
because of the multi-stereo of the bird song or car noise
because of short memory?
because time and moments slip away and yet taste so good (sad? intense? stupid?)
that you never need wine any more

i never needed wine
---
iseendaga rääkimine kõikides hetkedes, mis parasjagu toimuvad, kas pole see naljakas, eks ole?