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 of the bad things that happened to you when you tried your bestest to be good...

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: it was my burial.
Laying there, I could hear sounds...voices, cries and some of my favourite 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 started wondering why it mattered at all. Everything is over anyway.

Sunday, August 28, 2016

"These tears they keep on falling down on me
These tears they won't be gone with autumn leaves"

Monday, August 22, 2016

How many storms have washed the streets throughout these years? How many people have died?
How many tears have washed our cheeks and what is the cost of a smile?
How do we separate night from day, if all we have are dreams to keep us feeling alive?

Addicted to pain we shall become when every minute hurts and we try to hide.
Addicted to wishing for the one thing you can never have, when you don't want anything else.
How could you care about others if you don't anymore care for yourself?