Alcohol, spicy foods, the right type of love…
Oh what the hell?!

They keep us well and better but life keeps on being a pain in the ***.

We’re trying our best.
What else can we do?

Trying not to be too destructive in all the madness.
Just to be ok for the people we care for, the next day, the pet we feed…

I noticed a moment of silence.
So I drowned myself in it.
But then the noise came back.
And now I’m drowning in pain.
Can’t escape.
I tried but I want to stop trying.
I want it all to stop.
I want to drown.
Forever and not wake up from the dreams.

You called me darling.
Last night.
I want another night.
Another dream.
Another deep sleep.
And actually I wish I could stay there…

I guess I’ve experienced too much of life to care about it.
When people ask me questions about how I’m doing, I’m not responding.

I really don’t give a **** about what I should or shouldn’t be doing.
I’ve done enough, life’s done enough.
Please spare me those ideas about “manifesting”.
Just another way of controlling.
Life will be unfolding itself.
I’m just a spectator trying to make it worth it.
Worth being a part of the show, making myself look the way I want to.

I guess part of me always knew what I didn’t care for.
And what I did find important.
Too important because I can’t get it perfect.
But I learn to bargain, I’m still bargaining.
Daily for the way I want things.

Give me the music and the *****.
The bed that feels nice.
The man that cares.
Are the other feelings not just inside me?
A reflection of my own longing.
Never reciprocated or barely.
Not here.

There was a rose.
Heavy and wild.
Feeling like a tunnel or going down.
He loved sleeping under the stars.

She loved being in the painting.
But it doesn’t matter.
It’s just words.

What about the beer?
Special kind.
It really is.
Let me fly.
I’m just in here listening and loving.
We only dream when we sleep deeply.
Sinking.
Into all the real truth.

I love you,  I make you love me.
Cause you are all I need.
Like special beer and wine.
And all that’s good.
Nothing else is worth it.
Living for. 😢

There’s a rose.
And everybody loves her.
And she’s dying.

🥀🥀🥀🥀

The idea of suicide…..almost like a drug.
Not quite.
It changes the sky.
For the better or worse.
When it becomes a plan then it’s all too much.

But when it’s just a dream, a perfect one.
And one day it may come true.
Like a drug it brings liberty, peace and perspective, it shows the world in a different light.

When you try it and you come out you’re alright sometimes.
A little sick but fine.
Sometimes you can’t focus on anything, just for a while.
But if you stay in that trip or in those dark plans you can’t live…

It’s there any time.
Like a strong beer, whiskey, cocktail, wine because life is not right.
A dream, an option, an escape.
It’s a part of life even, all there to use.

An escape for a while.
But it can’t become all consuming.
Then it’s no longer a dream.
It’s a horrible reality that just kills.
In the worst way.

So I let it be an escape for a moment and not a recipe for disaster.
I have made that mistake.
It was only my luck that I came out right.
But being in a nightmare like that is an inescapable horror.

Sedate me.
Too many reasons for being sad.
Too many things not being right.
I can’t make them… right, they’re not alright.
It’s never right.
Same old, not alright.
Sedate me.

It’s Friday night.
You didn’t reply.
I’m on the couch.
Can’t feel the wine.

It never hits, only beer does.
And you’re never here until I reach out.
But then it’s awkward.

I still don’t know what you think of me.
But probably you don’t really want me the same as I want you, dream about you.
You old guy, Gemini.

I opened the door towards your love somewhere in 2015.
I was so lonely, young and crazy.
Always in hell unless you took me into your world or I created a new world.
You were there…

But now it’s 2023, almost 24 and I have survived somehow without you.
I learned not to love you.
Only in my dreams.

I had to.
I had to.
I had to.
I still have to.