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I am a ghost now, floating around in my personal limbo. All that is left are empty rooms were people I loved used to play. The mau helps me to forget, but there are memories too strong and too precious to be forgotten.
Time is limited, I knew that before I got myself into this, I knew exactly what I was doing and still it feels so futile. People are free birds you can't cage, you can only set them free and hope that one day they'll return.
And at first, during the drama of separation, things seem so exciting and foreign, but after a day or two, the feeling disappears. It all becomes grey and foggy, no joy, no pain, just a mellow mood in which I drown myself. My emotional winter is approaching, and this time, I'm going to enjoy it...
I had a deja vu yesterday. It was the familiar feeling of people leaving me. So I smash a car window and I scream myself silly, all in vain, cause nothing's gonna bring my memories back.
I awake once again entangeled, two travelling strangers trying to hold on to the last moments of rest.
I had a secret meeting with Sharon earlier, we had a deep conversation about the inevitable things in life. Such as life itself and the designated death following. We rode streets on the south side of the river and experienced people giving us weird stares as we passed. Feeling like an outsider wasn't really a concern, for what me and Sharon was doing, was nothing short of a miracle.
I've lost my ambition, I've given into the temptations of the heart. and seing as I'm heartless, nothing else matters. There's not one sentence, line or word that could change what's about to happen, the feeling of total paralysation scares the living hell out of me. One day you were a winner and two weeks later, there's nothing left to win.
It feel as if you create something so beautiful, you just have to give it away. But the people recieving it hasn't got the ability to appreciate the gift of love. And love is just a loose term, it means nothing when dealing with strangers and beautiful women. At the first kiss, my precious distance shrunk into an embrace I'd like to keep forever.
I hope that one day, the name Kirsty will mean more than all the caves I've explored, the moons I've populated and the mines that still has diamonds in them.
As the first light hits the beach of Cottesloe I find myself waking up, tangled up once again, with a beautiful woman laying on my arm. She is already awake and she is giving me the warmest morning smile I've ever recieved. It scares me to the bone, that this life, this world will be vaporized in about 72 hours. It will be gone and I will still be here...
I wake up ensnared with a beautiful woman, dazed by the mau I smoked the night before and feeling this fresh morning hard on growing in my way too small underwear. All tangeled up, she carresses my remaining manhood, I purr like a cat and say: "Good morning". What can I tell you? it's a fucking amazing way to wake up.
The emotions are carrying me from place to place, from people to crazy people to more people. They are everywhere and without them around, I feel lonely and grey. It didn't used to matter, nothing used to matter, but she is starting to make everything too real and I just love it when she brakes me.
Going to bed with my heart wide open, I almost cry but not quite. Sometimes I'm just too absurd for people to hang around me. I'll say something so disgusting that people just can't look me in the eye. They just have to leave my precense.
But in time, the need to impress strangers will subseed. The pressure of trying to prove myself to the cool kids will disappear and I will finally be ale to breathe. That will be a glorious day, the day that I finally grow up.
As I am pouring down the second shot of Tequila I hear the dance floor calling my name, but a bouncer carrying my arm tells me I should drink another glass of water.
As I am standing outside a promising club with a cigarette dangling between my lips I kiss a beautiful girl, but there is a bouncer telling me I should take a walk and buy some chips. I kindly reply, that I neither need a walk nor fucking chips, I need to dance. There’s no talking to people who have lost all ambition.
As I am sitting in the middle of the road trying to score some prime pills I notice a man shouting at me, it’s a bouncer trying to tell me I can’t sit there. I start to scream and walk off.
As I enter a promising club with nothing but confidence in my pocket a bouncer tells another bouncer that I am alright, I smile at him and whisper: “Fuck you, you easily manipulated piece of cunt shit...”
But in this chaos of mine, in this dizzy tunnel of party and sorrow, I see only one face. And whenever she smiles at me, the anger and all the pain just falls of my shoulders and I can finally breathe. She takes me through a dark hallway, into a small booth and tells me it’s alright. And I know it is, because we’re both there, together.
Then I open my heart and the tears follow...
Sharing a J with a nice kiwi in a sunny afternoon, drinking some coffee and just being. The friends that I left behind has made no effort to contact me.
Later, on a street made out of violence and random disobediance. I find myself sucking down the liquid cocaine, also known as whiskey. I hold a beautiful girl in my arms and as the night grows darker, I start to fear myself. I go to sleep drunk. emotional and very confused.
There are people and then there are sheep. The people rule the world and the sheep follows. If the people lose control, the sheep becomes confused. If the people don't gain control, the sheep will riot.
Well, I am neither a sheep nor people, I am the one cast aside. Never belonging and never quite the outsider, I'm just guy who thinks too much about way too much. I am the one who will rise above the sheep and confuse the people, I will slaughter the sheep and stab the people in their little backs.
But without the humility of the common man, I will go nowhere, so don't steal or cheat your brothers and sisters.
There are magic clouds floating around in a sky filled with shit, these clouds differ in both color and pace and every man has his mind set on his own. There aren't enough to go around, so it takes a sleigh hand to grab it.
The Dutch prince is nothing but a ghost by now, lavetating inside his soul, searching for answers you can't find on a mountain. And I see him, everywhere, all the time, I can hear the Dutch wolf laughing in every room I enter. But I know that in time, the experience becomes a memory, and memories can easily be forgotten.
And the girl holds me tight...
I can see it in his kindly drunken eyes, just how much stuff really matters to him, how much he really cares. And when he looks at mem says something funny an laughs, I just smile, doesn't matter what he just said, I'm sure it was fucking hilarious.
But then he tells me about his future adventures and how he is leaving for greater things. I listen like a child around a campfire and the stories always blows my mind. There is nothing the surprises me anymore, but this guy, this Dutch rider, sure knows how to catch my interest. And with the fewest of words he walks off into the distance, carrying a skateboard and a cigarette, and the sunset paints a siluette made by the god of wolves. When he crosses the line, he looks back at me, he smiles and says: "Too bad it's fucking raining, Bro..."
I know now, it's not the falling apart that hurts, it's the coming together.
She reaches with a tender arm, pushing her open hand loosely against my spine. I turn in mutual pleasure, cause I know one thing she doesn't, no one has touched me like that in a long time. I can't recallthe last time someone kissed me like her and telling her that is so hard, because when someone becomes special, they become irreplaceable. But playing it cool has never been my game, I boil within the passion, I embrace the premeditated pain of losing, once again. Cause in the end, everybody leaves.
I have these blurry daydreams about waking up, midwinter, back home, in an empty apartment. The sound of the xbox buzzing is torture and the light given of the blue desktop on my HDTV is burning my eyelids shut. I look around and there are dirty dishes and clothes covering the pleasant areas of a room strange to me, the air is thick with old, used up smoke and the walls are starring at me with it's grey and judgemental spots. I scream in panic.
When pulling your fingers through a thick, dark and curly head of hair, you feel a slight sensation. A simple miracle of life, touching another humen being, it frees your worries and random healthy thoughts come crawling back. And hearing a strangers heavy breath across the darkness, is making me feel loved. It's a good feeling, trust me.
But I have a big fucking surprise for a lot of people back home, I'm going to save up, so that I can treat the assholes of my past, to a beautiful fucking seassion of pain. It won't neceraly be physical, but it will be fucking violent.
Have you ever seen the ocean? I have. When you are homeless, broke, freezing and fucking hungry. Sitting on the beach watching the sun rise, is the best comfort you can get. The colosal void of endless water covering the earth, makes you realize, you're not that special.
And thinking about my family tree back home, growing wildly, setteling it's roots into addiction and violence. The children, my blood, being raised to be poor of judgement and having a lazy state of mind.. Thinking of that, I kinda feel like the chosen one, the man who's gonna fix them all up. I'll carry them on my shoulders until my knees snap and my legs brake from under me.
And my friends back home, much like me, are just wasting time drinking coffee, complaining about the shitty weather, going to parties where everybody knows everyone. I never would've guessed, I'd be the one who'd brake loose, fuck off, going somewhere else. I always thought I'd rot in an apartment filled to the brim with dirty dishes.
And when I think of myself back then, when ten grams of mau and my Xbox was all I needed. It was a glorious time, for a while, but as the winter closed in and covered my life in darkness, I lost the will to live, I just wanted to be nothing to nobody. I took pleasure in torchering myself with lack of sleep and food, I spent my days in bed or on the couch, fleeing into cyberworlds and mediocre fucking plots. For an hour of two, it's okay, but spending 6 months out of twelve just surfing through realityscapes is not good for your soul.
My thoughts have been spinning off lately, I've been arogant and selfish, and that is not the one I want to be. I need to show compassion for those who need it, instead of shrugging their gruesome worries off my shoulder, like dust off the floor. I need to connect to someone, open my heart and be myself for a second. For the man, the person, I am representing right now, is not the one who's gonna take me places.
The wind is blowing, constantly turning my pages, making walking harder, making weather colder, making for a shit day. And the ones that you care about just left, they had better things to do and they went and did it. But you know what they say: If you love something, give it away...
The money never comes rolling in, I've been fighting really hard, for a long time, but it never comes rolling in. So when I jump from train to train, I'm not being cheap, I'm just being a poor fucking asshole.
Well, I reckon the whole fucking world will burn down someday an I'll be standing on the hill, watching all the fucking rats twist in agony.
The eyes of a stranger catches my imagination, she is wearing a rather shy smile and it is driving me crazy. If a touch was to be made, my mind would bubble like a sooting bottle of Coke. I'm just wating, waiting for the connection to happen... But then again, I've been waiting for all my life, waiting for the miracle to come.
I was in this bar the other night, a darkskinned man was playing his tunes on stage and it captured my ear. But then started singing "Chelsea Hotel No 2", didn't know the lyrics and it fucking pissed me off. And it's true, I'm only shy around the beautiful ones, the ones the matter.
