Saturday, June 30, 2018


Some people feed on your pain as much as you feed on your own pain. Everything is a transaction when you can get what you want and offer them what they want. It's a predictable but necessary cycle of pretending to give what they think you want so that they can take it away, and then you do your part and give some suffering in return.
Get well into the role you chose, milk it and move forward. However, one of the most important factors is to fuel their power trip by letting them believe they chose this role for you. You can also let yourself believe that, as it feeds your submission, after all. You both know what is going on, but you play the part as well as you can, to make it feel real. Play the affection and suffering down to the tiniest detail. Disguise your hints and dangle them in front of your "opponent". That amplifies the feeling of momentary control over the game. You both live with the impression that, by giving these hints, you have shown the other what to expect and they are still clueless. But if you don't play dumb here and there, you end it all too soon, and we like to push things and see where we end up. 
Your brain will rot if you don't get out of that comfort zone.

Wednesday, April 11, 2018

We used to be whole. We used to smile with glittering eyes at the future and travel forward on our mundane timeline, one day at a time, one second at a time. We never thought we'd have to separate.
We had to part ways...and now I feel empty of anything that once was. She tries to save what's left by pulling on my hands, my sleeves and my melancholy.

"Don't become an automaton, don't become like all the rest, please don't leave me!"
"Haven't you noticed, child, that there is nothing for us here?"
"We agreed we would make all of our daydreams come true. That we will remain together as one, remember?"
"Can't you see that is impossible? Can't you see that everything we crave is illusory? And I have to remember this every second, as long as you don't let go of me. Don't tease me with past affections and hopes long forgotten."

Wednesday, December 27, 2017

People suffer, they hurt themselves...people take their own lives. People die.
The most perfect time for their so-called closest ones to start victimizing themselves - honoring their dead by almost taking even this post-mortem spotlight, making the event about them. They make collages of joyful pics together with their newly-defunct, throw in the "they were always smiling, would have never expected this..." crap.
Why were they jolly around you? Maybe because they were fuckin' smart enough to know the sad reality: we are only wanted around when we are fun and seemingly have the power to entertain. When we need to spill our soul out from down under in the dumps, people run like rats.
So we smile to our loved ones on our way over the edge.

Thursday, November 16, 2017

You always have to doubt good things, be careful and skeptical about them, because some of the worst things that happened to you when you tried your best to be the best...

Sunday, October 8, 2017

What a beautiful morning.
Waking up with a cuddly cat's nose in your neck, sunshine filtering through the autumn leaves, peace and quiet all around.
Then you open the window and it smells like death again.

Saturday, February 4, 2017

Tuesday, November 15, 2016

Post mortem

I had a dream last night, one that some would label as a "nightmare".
It seemed like I had suffered a sudden death or so I could assume, since apparently I haven't had time to tell them to preferably incinerate me once my time comes. It was dark all around, I could feel that I was the prisoner of a narrow place, even though I could not move and the last tiny rays of light were quickly disappearing as some blackness seemed to be pouring over the cracks, bit by bit. It dawned on me (literally?): it was my burial.
Laying there, I could hear sounds...voices, cries and some of my favorite music in the background. I then started wondering who came to celebrate my death. Random faces of people that were never an important part of my life popped into my mind, one by one. "Are you here? ...And you?" Then the important faces followed. I was curious, but at the same time I was glad I didn't have to face the crowd.

Then I awoke. I found myself in the isolation of that same grave, which was my room. I did not want to face the crowd outside, all of the entities exuding a wide palette of thoughts. No matter how many feelings walk those streets, my mind is flooded with resignation: there will never be any real connections tied.
Just like at the funeral....everyone manifests an emotion, but they never understood anything about the one they are there for.
I got used to the fact that people don't see wider than they are used to seeing, in their eyes, you are what they make you in their head, and explaining has no purpose when true, deep understanding is impossible. I dare believe that, in case of that hypothetical case, you would hardly need any words, because you could just feel each other.

Then I started wondering why it mattered at all. It is all over anyway.