just selfishness?

For more than a year i tried to bury my pride with her. I m not sure pride s the right word. It might have been self defence, survival instinct. I think some kind of mental health alarm went off without me being aware of it. Whatever it was, it summoned an  undercurrent of rage. An ever-simmering concoction only brimming on rare occasions.

A few more than 365 had already paraded by. The blues got me off guard. After being buried for more than a year I was suddenly feeling the ground shake under my feet.

Has there been any mistake? Has she been buried alive? She was dead, alright! She came back to live by gorging on the emotions i hid in her coffin and now she s back. Now that I think about it, she did look a little bit like an undead. All that natural darkness under the eyes...but i digress

I went for the straight forward approach: elliciting the information by asking simple questions. What role do you think selfishness played in you breaking up with C C? My answer could have been 'none'. It wasn't though.

i just hesitated for several minutes and my mind seemed to then switch off. What was the question again? After going through the same motions and staring into my confused eyes for a further indefinite number of minutes the interviewer started to get on his nerves so i tried my best to answer the question. How could I? selfishness...? ehhhm

i guess i must ve been selfish but i can t see exactly how. This is the extent of my self knowledge. A ludicrous self-awareness muffled by fear and selfishness.

Once I gave up hope of finding a fairly simple answer it seemed to naturally come to me. our struggle didn't make sense, not anymore, not after...so selfishness took over. This roadless connections. These sudden thought pop-ups. they always strike me as utterly miraculous; one's not on thinking mode and then the idea becomes as  tangible as a suicidal razorblade wound.

Another digression! What was the question again? Selfishness

i'm the one whose heart's just missing
try to stab me dead , you won't kill me
you'll stab thin air, nothing.

our false prophets

you spread shit on everybody's toasts
you are fate's dreadful boasts

today you just woke up. wanted to be saints
redeem your dirty selves. november rains
won't drain your filth won't wipe off your blame
storms ll strike back carrying black pains
wet naked leather coat agonies


you stink of purity
ancient parching affluence
and cloying whiteness
couldvebeen deities
you re coiled up barreness...
instead

across the room

i still can hear the thumping and rattling of business-as-usual in the world next to me. there s a thick sound wall keeping it all away from me, though. a flat local character is gesticulating and waving a fan. the music on my headphones's blaring out and some of the liquid tune's pouring into the room. nothing of the silliness outside seems to have sneaked into my skull. the silence between songs keeps me informed of the conversation polluting the air, though. not that i couldn't guess just by seeing her grimaces and her ugly theatrical features parching her face.

-donde se va a celebrar la boda?
-noooo el otro dia se celebraron elecciones en el mercantil. 
-si? y quien ganó?
- como se llama?
-se llama ...............
- si, la mujer me atiende cada vez que voy al mercantil...

seville.. wasteland world summit 2012!

of course

of course. what did you expect? you behave like a fucking cunt and 5 years down the road mr nice guy behaves like mr nice guy again. possible but you don't believe that, now, do you?

my reptile self's cold hugs=her reptile's self's iciness

i broke the little blue jar we kept on the living room table. the one our cuddly female snake would continuously coil around.  the poor ignoble reptile.  loneliness was essential to her automatic embraces. innate aloofness masked by eternal icy contact with surfaces. they can smell the possibility of commitment in others like border customs n border detector dogs. sniffer cunts.  they ve fooled millions. it's not commitment they re after. they re merely killers out for blood in life's ramdom ocean. 

lust enslaved the subjects. even inside her egg she had plotted her unstoppable rise to power. always hungry. always on preying mode. down there in the dumping ground sniffing for prospective weaklings she had already turned millions of serpentes into an army she commanded at will.  corn snakes had concocted mutinies orchestrated together with more imposing peers in the end they were all as docile as the indonesian aquatic informants. the likes of her no longer posing a challenge , she decided to move up in the food chain: proxima estación: presa facil, unslaveable earthlings.

quirky rain again

here s the infinite curtain of autumn rain sweeping across the city and bringing back the pinpricks of winter past again. The agony of true love. How very unreal in its spotless transparency. this impervious paradox, this memory of a blurry slippery feeling.

the freshness and the odour of the long awaited rain brought back the pain. a deadly muffled cauterized version of the razor sharp late autumn shipwreck's survivor pangs. a soul wandered away from its centre, from life itself into the void.

i ll wait for you i ll wait for you i ll wait for you until until until...

until awe eats up all that is good and beautiful and the rain reminds me of who we were. until your body wants to ache to relieve the pain. the sting metamorphoses into antidote and you wish for sweet death. until you can t breathe and the tears seem to help.

you ll always be a starring scar, always a force of nature.

until I die.

steep

life's such a steep piece of work!  it doesnt matter where i stand, whether s time to dive or rocket. calm spells whizz by or they get stopped in their stride. brain heart and pudenda all in the fucking scheme as well.

what's with me today? mr swifty. cant focus?

...that brilliant idea i had in the morning. it sounds shit now. the stuff about mirrors. what was it again? yes. I was just thinking how great it would be for a person to look in a mirror and see exactly the same thing someone else has seen. e x a c t l y what they ve seen. not what their eyes were seeing. not even what their neurons were transmiting to their optic nerves and the feelings they got from that.  but in mirrors, we just don't really see ourselves. we see an invariably disappointing version of ourselves.

and then there s the writing on the bus stop bench: 'lo que tu y yo podriamos haber sido de no haber sido tu y yo'. can't seem to get it out of my head. the past is such a crafty beggar. it just find ways to sneak back into the present and soil your future. try to dodge the fucker. he s still there like an immortal zombie. dragging its rotting body towards you.

and then last week's lines

decades down my road you ll still be a soul sniper
fly east till the music inside you bleeds
the core of your being paints a perfect still life
pay my pointless ramson in prayer cash
there s no redemption for the likes of you, though
no believer would resist the purity of your sad eyes
breakdown carol, stench of my stagnating blood flow
where are you going now?


december. devil's tools. sublime music for my weary eyes. retinas bleed joyous human kerosene. fly till your wings flap message-pregnant air. sin painted all over your sex scented smile.  flawless crust soiled core. i can smell it in you: perfection ready to burst, corrupt beauty. fruitless womb of yours. tumorous cunt. your wormy flesh speaks modern babilonian. scarred star. moonless soul. my true love. pack of lies from some alien predator. get frisky and don t miss her caved-in chest. she ll moan and gasp for dirty air, the bitch.

rambling

these are not my thoughts. they can't be. i'm scared of myself. of this alien life form feeding on me. it's not taking over. me and sheitan.  me i'm the devil. he lives in me. my soul seemed to spark back into life thanks to it. these bone crashing thirst and hunger. the unfaltering need for agression and the search for a beauty beyond moral boundaries. in the mood for hatred. i m struggling to remain the little tick that can only scratch the surface. i ache to reach for bones and internal organs. i want old city center action. i m no bypass commuter anymore. i ll stay in your heart and do damage.

hear the world cracking up everynight. put my ear to the pillow and feel tiny cracks making reality protude, little shattery chunks whisper their moralistic chants and ravings. nobody seems to hear. i just lie to myself:' i'm dreaming'. not that difficult if you re after a soft version of the real.


the others pretend it's all just their sleeping pills dodgy side effects. bring the noise. bring the white noise. the background lies. cover this mess up. take the earth crust and some persian rug master to sow  it all and lets push all this filth under there. let's just cover our ears and breathe in the morning. let's just stick a pair of black lipstick bars in our nostrils and listen to our favourite music. hands up in the air, you daft cunts. time to have fun. grab a couple of pliers and tear away the stupid wisdom remnants. who put them there in the first place.

drive down the highway till  your fingers stick to Ms. nightmare's wheel. no clutch or brakes. just travel fast. fast as you can, babe. just spit in their stupid faces. puke on this rubbish dump planet. curse them in a million languages and show them who s boss. the new woman. the new fucker. height of fashion cunts ready to feed on the world. bring it on. get your food.  sushi bit of you. chew on mankind and spit, spit, spit.

______________________________________________________________________________

can see the splendorous crispiness of your facial features in the darkness.  'v'been seeing them ever since... ever since you broke your promise i ve been.... ive been here and there. mostly here... marinating in my own pungent juices. i forgot myself. i forgot where i was making for... i forgot who i was talking to. or was i talking to myself? yeah. i remember now . i was just raving about the old centre of the civilized world inside of me. the ancient capital. it got burned to...ashes of my old self. no embers left. just this weightless pile of nothingness.  you ll twist my fucking soul.i know you. you can do it. your  name´s...your sweet name brought tears to my eyes, your eyes celestial spheres from planet filth. your heart pumps cancer. i felt it in your voice. your crying, your fucking moany french...french s such a lovely language they say. the ignorant fuckers. if they only knew. the language of love... if you only knew. go to the outskirts of love and speak your stupid bookish babble verlan, but i digress. i was onto your cankerous centre. i just couldn t say no then. you moved your mouth and i nodded. you asked... didn t even have to plea. you just said the incantation. don t judge me i must learn that one. easy to get away with murder. dont judge me, i was the centre of your universe but you brokkkk... i broke up with ...i said we couldn t...you knew you were not coming here anymore...i said it was ovvvv...over. who knows if you had jumped down in ... jumped into muddy arms... filth... such filth...don t judge me you pleaded. opinionated little fucker doesn t what to be judged when she fucks up. nti muslima? nefsek khaib w qawii!! dik al marra sharbti bzzefff, yak?! ana ma na3arf, ana. waqila ma sharbtish. you just needed to ffff ff.ff....ff...ffff.......f.f.ff.f...stutter in bed. just stutter. no emotion involved. just go through the ugly motions. dirty little c..dirty 30 minds of ours. i forgave you. so naive. mr naive. i should have fucking got the first flight to paris and stab your red pumper sprinkly deep. i ve dreamt of watching your eyes die. watch you blink once again. that i ve dreamt as well. i lvd... loved ...i loved you so much... so much...you CUNT! how could you..i d cut you right out of my memory.  false prophet. fake wisewoman. messenger of wolvy lies. who raised you? you cant be your mum s daughter. monstrous stork sneaked you into the world.


you ll become a soldier or a mercenary. after this fucking war s over. after the trial s over. after she dies. after she rots. after the maggots, and flies and carrion crawlers. once the trial is over. you ll kill or be killed. might have code of honor to live up to or maybe you ll just kill for fun.


clean this mess before the maggots turn up. the littly crawly fuckers. we love them though. it ll smell for a while but we can always hide it, cover it, pretend is not there, blame mr.bad breath, call the bomb makers. buy us a big brand dazzling new fucking something. or get another sucker to blow us apart

love, they call it

love they call it
little fools
in their mad costumes
love they call it
they sell it
advertise it

feel the void
then fill it
with love

i call it


wanna ache
feel the void
listen to it
summoning