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On the yellow houses and their gardens, come rain or good weather, it does not matter whether Little Fish stays elusive and unattainable. Whatever the bird of paradise sings, at the heights of its flamboyance, and what the most sensitive of roses provokes come morning: neither impresses us. We will always hold ourselves untameable. Little Fish, by virtue and nature, is independent and free.
From one dawn to the next, Ben and I live as outsiders; the centre of life and its wonders have not taken to our conscience. We are not mainstream and do not wish to be, for we do not greet the days that are born in this fashion. Quite the contrary, without having to change our beings, we absolve goodness that comes along with daily terrors. We say, methodically, with words that pass us by, that we understand the infinite pain of being man. We understand that we are not nothing and our ambition now is to be even less. Why be afraid of the sirens that come in the night? Why aspire to be beings that we are not? Like you, we are prepared to hold ourselves close to the storms that menace and to take refuge inside our own fears. This is the life that we love, live by and believe.
This is why we have chosen a certain kind of life, above that of words to come that are written always for the last time.