Another sad sick movie

I am lowering my head at things I don’t understand, hooding my green eyes like some bird of prey, apparently, not like most of us; it’s a seasonal thing I think, that hits me like an A minor chord, starting on the fifth, reflecting that the whole power behind my mental drive rests upon impotence, slowly spreading stains over a tortured memory lane, unable to explain even to myself. Things are clearer on the real side. And winter comes slowly; I need it like oxygen when I explore the skies, so much as this π scar on my wrist, the emotion, the love of that late winter day, full of animated tendencies and good people as company.

“Do you read me?”

So, then, I think I’ll go for a walk, jump high and then vanish in the night sky of your playful mind, like a tourbillion firework or like an image that we rejected from last summer in Syros, no rain to even whisper sweet nothings to us while we end, just driving, driving, driving in the dark, on an unknown highway. Will you wake me up for New Year’s Eve party? What will remain after a sad waltz? Maybe my head moving slowly, going side to side in reflection of the start of the year.

I’m thinking of this man who continuously breaks his legs, suffering from being trapped in a basement, somewhere in a crystal palace, maybe this man is me. Alice comes and visit me from time to time. We party, we feed the ants with Jameson drops and then we fall asleep. When she leaves I receive sex in a blood-stained envelope thrown in my face like the bundle of discarded bones a butcher throws to the dogs. It’s well worth it for the fun, but as far as flora goes there are no flowers in my basement.

“Then why come back?”

Life has no edges. On windy mornings you can sometimes see the ether. So let me draw you a more earthly picture, no savage experiments on b/w corpses, no hear damaging by eerie feedback, just a vast landscape filled with an ongoing desire for solitude, yes it’s a nerve thing, I know, reminds me what the nurse once said, “Just good words you can give to her”, so what’s that supposed to mean? How the fuck do you want me to increase my soul? How the fuck do you want me near? Cut in pieces, slice after slice after slice, in different universes or inside a package, wrapped with a vermilion ribbon? Who knows! You can even market me off as a new post postmodern enlightenment.

Later on I’ll take on the night, me in a car, drive a few hundred kilometers, crash upon a few hundred gray shadows, and finally die to the moons windy tickle. I move slowly, mostly not moving at all, waiting, breathing, gazing at the b/w avatar of a suspended relation, hanging over my head, head with a mask, my fingers shaking on the steering wheel, now it all comes on me, like one million camera flashlights shooting synchronized right into my eyes, now it’s me who wants to puke on your fingers as I feel my last tears begin to flow.

I’m yours, so now eat me_