painkillers

sleep/pill. the shape of my day. do not betray me. have i ever not betrayed everyone who was so foolish to trust me. i am not a winner, not a loser. sharp. never trust anybody. there's is no antidote. the stars are pills i am going to swallow too. all us lonely people. soul beggars.

the system of sounds. blaze-blade-horizon. it does not kill the pain, the pain kills everything. i humbly nestle against her. friday.

never be alone. never cross that frontier. never. my real name.

 

::: for beauty is nothing ::: but :::

the saint rhythm of the west

the beast. the villain. the shout. get the fuck outta my head. this ain't no dawn. this ain't no luv. just an antidepressants' swarm, a displacement feast.

i have been there. but it does not mean anything.

the attack. the seizure. the severance. the distance between you and the sound that aims to touch. the dishevelled postcard-actress-face that travels from bar to bar.

i have been released. to face a wall.

emily wittgenstein. william rilke. nathaniel melville. my best friends. my closest enemies. i wish we owned a specific garden together. on the wavelength. imagine it as an ocean of collapsing houses.

the tide. the karma. the vanity. you have been disconnected. you have been put away. offline forever. the final.

 

::: discord :::

drop

till the last frame of this film. these days possess the coolness of eternity. the great repeater. it's not over yet. it will never be over. my next book will be about...

square waves of quasischizophrenia. dreams of capitalist utopia. the sky is grey. just like the fat cats running it. ...  o muerte.

you shall struggle with the known not to become ... o blah ...

the greatness.

of rain you shall speak. of pain and terror you shall speak. of an occupied territory you shall speak. of guns and words intercourse. of people who flip the switch and then the network is gone. of people and of republics. of desire. of the despair of those left behind.

go.

::: el campo es infinito :::

in the passage

masses of idiots march on a tired, an empty face. it is sunday morning and this night had an absinth shape. the phone rings. no way you are going to pick it up. you are heading uptown. every path is useless.

the neon sign reads "the fall is near, all thy herd is in the passage". the bridge is mysteriously untouched. you watch the burning ruins of the castle from it.

the sunbeams are copper blue just like the tattoo on my forearm. right now, my eyes are pearls of the same color. i am going to unleash my brain. i am going to mingle with the neural network of this city. i am going to dive into plethora of pain and pleasure and indifference.

light and sounds. the sky makes me think of eternity. your rhythm is in the way you dance. your rhythm is in the way you fuck. the sky makes me think of concrete it reflects.

voice over: in the end, love is everything that matters.