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In the future we won’t eat food
There will be a pill

We won’t drink wine
Another pill

We won’t go out
We will be able to visit anywhere on Earth

And beyond
Via a headset

No one will write books or poems
The robots will do that for us

And the only thing people will talk about
Is the good old days

Before we ****** it all up
She wears a permanent frown  

On her deep lined face

An unwanted trophy of a hard life.

New day, same story:

Morning paper

Handful of scratch cards

Scratching away as she walks


Probably no longer expecting to win

But willing to pay the small price

To hang on to the dream.

I wonder if she remembers

What the dream even is?
I need to go away, I said

I've done my time

Doing what's right

But now I need some time for me:

To refresh my soul.

One year from what I have left

Is all I ask

And that's not much to ask.

She thinks I'm joking

But I'm serious

And already dreaming

About how I will spend

My long days of freedom
Me: Imagine if it's your worst day ever,
Over and over for all eternity

J: That's not how it works!

Me: Who said so? Are you writing the rules?

She was silent
Probably considering the worst day she had ever had
This one hits me harder than the rest:

The horror of the grave

An eternity of nothing.

The futility of it all

Makes me feel like screaming

And running away

From everyone and everything.

There will be no more sleep tonight
Night thoughts:
Those thoughts that jump into your head at 2am and won't let go.
A fine day
Not as warm as yesterday
When the sun burnt my face

I sit in the park
With a coffee
And people watch

The Japanese tourists
Photograph the blossom
The irony makes me smile

A Japanese boy stares at me
I put my sunglasses on

Perhaps I remind him
Of someone
He once knew
She wrote me a poem

I forgive her.

It's beautiful, I say:



After the shipwreck
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