Attila Végh - THIS IS THIS

I don’t care about the future anymore.
I’m sitting in a rented room,
and I’m thinking about the woman for whom
I’ve left the other one that loves me.
I love her, too, of course, still
I’ve gone away from her because
I love the one that doesn’t love me more.
It would be better for me,
if I loved the one that loves me more.
I know that the other one doesn’t love me,
but I don’t care.
It would be better for me, if she loved me,
but worse for the other one who loves me.
She finds comfort in that the other
doesn’t love me, and I find comfort in that
at least she does.
For what do we need the other then,
we may ask.
Silly question. We always need another one
that doesn’t love us. That’s called dynamics.
Life is but a flow of different quantities of love.
Sometimes we experience equilibrium:
she loves me just as much as I love her.
That’s when the smell of death starts spreading.
Our choices are: boredom or suffering.
And then we get bored with suffering,
and move back to the one that loves us.
Of course we still love that other one,
but now at least there is someone who loves us.
Because I’ve forgotten to say
when no one loves us, that’s just as deadly.
So, we move back to the first one,
sit down with her in front of the TV,
and try not to think about the other one.
When the characters stop talking on the screen,
we can hear from beneath the sofa
as the gong is creeping wrapped in greaseproof paper,
as the dusty cymbal is scratching.
en_GBEN