really?? no not really...

of the life you live in pools you swim in and the murky, marshy, mythical creatures who depress me with their whispers of make-up and methane...not easy to detect...it puts me to sleep...but somebody did me a "favour" by adding this distinct crappishness to it...so i know what's killing me...ignorance is not bliss according to some...(it's ridiculous)...in my personal opinion (and that's the only opinion i care for)...as long as the water's cool enough for me to take a nice dive in...i'm ok. (because i can feel the stupid phantom bugs crawling all over...yeah yeah this is what comes from sleeping on the floor...bugs all over...wake up every now and then to flick one off. up yours. {Goddamn Nazi}.)
sooo...you hand me the napkin by the window sill and slip me a fork...the dinner is on the table...the table is cold...the food is in the kitchen, the crockery is in the toilet, floating, making a mockery of my...er...civilization...there are spiders on the rafters...sparks in the window...parks that could be just two dimensional for all i know...posters of failures in bedrooms of impressionable youths...a golden telephone by the tiny table made of wood, made of plastic...made by man...sooo...what're you doing on the table?? oh right.
dinner is served.
i was asking you about the time when we had to discuss the time when stepping out (into the picture-perfect, sunlight-infested, pond to feel the summer in the water) felt so nice...
greek people need to ask us what icarus did wrong...we're the only people who strut around so confidently with false wings...and we're not falling down like we should be...maybe the ponds are softer...why don't YOU try some of this? tap tap tap. you've been tapped.
my friend never got the good thing about large corridors where old wooden brackets hold burning torches...there's something to be said about flickering light and the smell of black gold on ancient looking rags. i was once in this place where the sun exploded.
outerspace...seems quiet doesn't it? fake people know my name? same thing?
listen to me...but don't talk to me. don't listen to me...don't be around...don't stink up my atmosphere by being...chatty ok? please?
ate food after nearly four days...cold chicken...roasted...my eyes are too yellow...dirty fellow. that's a relief...so sick of music...music makes me want to go around poking sealed condom packets with needles...hahaha...spread the disease. misery loves company...i don't...i'm not miserable...i'm doing quite well actually...my shoes are a bit worn though...these last couple of years have been tough on them...ran out of smokes...indeed?
how about some of that juice then? would you like some? i'm a bit parched actually...a bit parched you say? a bit parched you ask? a bit parched you reply? a bit parched indeed. that was most uncomfortable...there's a phantom bug crawling on your thigh sir...allow me to...er...don't be afraid...this won't hurt as much as you think it will...just...just flick it...flick it across the room...close...closer...there just make sure you don't let it happen again...now...i need a favour. could you hand me that napkin by the window sill? now could you please hop up on the table? keep that fork to yourself...and ok good.
dinner is served.
it's amazing how they just deliberately don't know each other so they can pretend to get to know each other. it's amazing how similar these two words are and yet they belong in the same language and have different meanings...it's amazing how you're a filthy little pigeon and a horny little humming bird at the same time...now if you could just...hop up on my table.
dinner is served.

martin plokij