After a few days of low in limbo,
stressed and confused by the mere idea
of competing with giants,
climbing up an endless ladder
and running just to stand still,
I came back to the fact that I'm not here
to get something.
And I don't mean just New York.
I mean my life in general.
There is nothing to achieve or conquer
but only to explore and enjoy.
I'm not here because of ambition
but for experience.
I don't seek to be accomplished
but inspired.
There are people here
with skyskrapers named after them
but who are still on a daily treadmill
just to not slam back down on the pavement.
We race to get our faces projected onto clouds
only to dissolve when the sun breaks through,
when this strange dream of life is over
and the sky clears.



Yesterday I spent the whole day
slowly and gently upgrading
the software in my little computer.
Trimming the tools,
downloading new drummachines
and stacking up with fresh sounds
in my digital magic box .
It was a retreat and a refuge.
A sort of homecoming.
Doing instead of thinking.
Then finally, in the middle of night
the first sounds came through the speakers.
And it was suddenly so obvious:
I must never even for a second confuse my life for a career.
At the end of the day
I can take nothing with me where I go.
When my time is up
whatever I've achieved will slip through my fingers.
But when I'm gone from the face of the earth
I may perhaps leave some nice music behind.