Roll! Keep rolling. Keep looking. Keep smiling. Keep buying. Keep eating. Keep shitting. Keep moving. Keep fucking. Keep reproducting. Keep reading. Keep walking. Keep fighting. Keep hating. Keep hurting. Keep loving. Keep screaming. Keep wishing. Keep vomiting. Keep thinking! Keep breaking. Keep selling. Keep talking with your mouth full and head empty. Keep kissing asses of your authority. Keep pushing your self in to her, who never loved you. Keep wishing there is something more for you out there. Keep being ashamed of your self that you sold out your most intimate dreams. Keep sniffing. Keep waiting for the end. And I will wait for the moment, when the red button will be ready. The time is ticking. Are you listening? Just don't forget to chose the correct answer box.
You suggest I should forget about it. Never! Train is unsteady on the rails. An equivalent of thoughts in a rubber ball. Risk it. Live it. We all will look the same in the end. So what are you afraid off? The resistance is digging your self from under the earth. Dirt is tasty like victory. Shaped light bulbs and IKEA is teaching children how to invest in to future. How is it possible to hear ambulance sirens on the train. God bless the internet ad CCTV! All is dust. The counting begins with an intensity. Emptiness. Confess! What would be your weapon of choice? He said brothers and sisters. Proud and tall - a lair! A slave wearing a tie and crispy white shirt. No insides, no knowledge, no identity, no passion, no desire. Empty shells of foolishness.
And now, after a long train ride. After alarm clock at 4.45. After the smile in the morning. I sit in the same diner. Writing this "thing" and hoping that the flat on the 6 floor will not be all in glitter.
I remembered the times of nose candy and the empty peaceful experience you get from it. Like floating in the sea at night fall. It is raining for a second week in the row. I want to lay on the ground listening to Jarboe and be swollen by the emptiness. "Ode to V". It feels as the air stopped moving. Like oxygen is made out of liquid gummy substance. Feels like in a movie. This old town is a papie mashe decoration. It seems that by pulling only one string you could see what really happens in side the gutter. I want to touch her hair. I don't know her. Who to blame this time that thing did not turned out as she wanted to. Kicking of the ground. The smell of skin changed. Watch the temptation. Fog out side the window is so think that it seems you could eat it. Head is switched. Sleep. One more cigarette. One more mistake.
Good Night and god bless,