Sometimes I think that I'm going to tattoo a third eye on my cheek next to my happy wrinkles, cut my hair that it would be as short as well trimmed lawn and move in back with my parents in the province town. Everybody would be asking "what happened?" or even be too scared to ask. Awkward silence and frightened looks in shops, banks and parks. And if somebody would ask "what happened?" I'd just answer "Nothing". Massive confusion and maybe at some point everybody would just get tired and get used to me. And the explanation would be just Nothing. Because nothing would have had happened. Nothing. Nothing feels better than saying truth and still surprising people.