As the city quiets down
Noises come up within

The funky soundtrack of my demise
My hands in pockets because i have no belt
I ll wait until tomorrow to realize what i felt

Even the waves are in a hurry to get somewhere

The moms on bikes with the childseats empty
On parked bikes only the back lights are on
Red red red red    but the city's still
gray

I forget which street light are those that turn red to green only as you get closer to them

I am the home that sometimes feels unlike a house to me

Mom, i'm fucked up, but what you have to know is that i take my vitamin D3, calcium and magnezium, omega 3 and B12 vitamins.

My brain is a radish
My spine wishes i was an invertebrate
My momma wishes for a better me
Reality is sliding in the gap between the train and the platform

Next stop
Is

Bigcityrants

We live in an age     of light
Much of it                   neon

After much elaborate consideration
I have decided
That i will consider it


Punk angels
Having shaved their wings they had to find
Other ways of getting high


In the metro tiredness disconnection sadness & malcontent are bobbing their heads
Considering whether they should get out
at the next stop


At the green light two strangers begin a walk towards each other
Whatever is the street they are crossing,
they smile shyly towards the middle,
touch lightly and kiss.
The light turns red the cars start honking-
what now?

I honestly hope I harbor no more hope

tonight we are the audience.

akin to candles in a church with no windows,
we are melting away.

somewhere sometime someone
is saying a prayer through us.

it is almost ridiculously hilarious to see all humanity as one intricate headless chickens dance
and almost similarly saddening that we are not laughing at it nearly hard enough

happy silly willy nilly

I shake my head
             .madly.
my webcam is not covered, there might be someone watching me-
 this
 is as close as we get to God nowadays
 .us relaxed paranoiacs.
looking back over our shoulders when making decisions



for a while my spirit was empathizing with the contents of alcohol containers
(empty)
now
entitled to feeling
--so full of  it--

o (dh)armă albă

there is a warm gaping distance between me and what I feel.

no wonder
I got to wonder
whether you're
really
such a wonder.
now,
I wander.

most certainly so,
I am a relativist.
that, of course, is a good thing,
but then again, it's also bad.

an anticipation of an emancipation of the present.
a full night awaiting to be emptied with voids.

sadly, people are white noise that I tune my ears to.

our consciousnesses are animated&contaminated.

-aberații produse în portbagaj, prea târziu să-ți pese, prea devreme să dormi, abundențe de nimicuri.

I have a bunch of reasons, all adding up to nothing

nopțile
  plantele de lângă picioare
  cresc din mine.
diminețile
  mă trezesc extenuat
  dar zâmbesc
zâmbetul
  îmi e o revoltă tristă
  împotriva unor adânci revolte triste
corpul meu e sol ademenitor vânătăilor, cearcănelor și feluritor pofte sisifiene

fugiti amarati nemilosi in infometarea noastra
stele sub sori, curand vom incepe sa ne rugam
constipat mintal
ganduri pitigaiate de neandertal
cutite tocite
singurele arme albe-mi sunt oasele, impotriva mea.
eu nu-mi sunt pe potriva

imi pun frana la emotii               mi se spune
sunt frana                        realizez                              cu intarziere
 undeva e o lume in care tu ai radacini in tine
 the crowd is not impressed
lick your wounds happily but keep sadness at hand|in the freezer icy chicken legs pizzas my anchoring in the present | streams of habits run by you run you down
lungs filling stones eroded to riverbeds
throwing fake punches punching the clock every morning
this is no poetry at all this was chimney lungs
treci pe autopilot si scheme prostesc de grandioase se ridica la suprafata iau fata si apoi iti sar in fata
chances keep squirting out of toothpaste tubes and drop in the sink
this age of abundance welcomes our dance of nothingness
tentative de a de a de altceva
do trust falls with yourself, see what happens

1, calmly demonic clouds turtle across the sky |actually| across my window
oftentimes I am also clouded
the eye of the storm   blind to what is around
2, wonderful cloudy beasts hang in the blue
grazing/feasting lazily

last night bukowski cried me all over
to some i wrote quite drunkenly
to some i wrote fairly soberly drunk
to myself so wasted that i could not write

in the afternoon morning
                       [eyes bulging with drunkenness]
I am washing the paint brush
recollecting arranging and aligning my teeth

daca esti o fantana
cate monede poti baga in tine pt noroc?
si cat noroi poti curata din tine?
si pana la urma
esti potabil?

one day I will buy myself a vacuum cleaner and perhaps that day my life will be less dusty as well
someday my hair will be the length that I most want
I will buy myself footwear fit for kung fu
one day I will buy myself a water filter and eat more organic produce
someday I will defy my own nonexistent expectations and perhaps that day I will dance naked in the rain
someday my pile of books I don't read will be fitting to the pool of shortcomings in which I dwell knowing terrifyingly and serenely that there is no way        I prefer peacefully chaotic stumbling and limping to well-rehearsed choreography 
by the time I will be able to keep my back straight   my knees will be cut down   by the time I realize my painting style   art will be a bone of the past tattooed on the inside of eyelids   by the time I rejoice in small spaces   time will stop being circular linear   who knows what portrait of equations will appeal        by the time my concerns go to trial  the justice system will be dismissed
I look backwards and wonder how could I have been so foolish as we ask ourselves why people were burned in middle ages
I will look backwards and wonder how could I now have been so foolish as we will ask ourselves why people now have been so eager to connect that they disconnected
the backwards will look forward and wonder how I will become so foolish as our backwards look to our forwards and ask why mindlessly believing in gods turns to mindfully not believing
until we would stop daring to look back/in/for-wards and ask


frostbite me!

    all around me people are talking
                                             talking
                                            getting ready to talk getting ready to see
talking to their sweethearts getting ready to see their sweethearts
I have a bag of rocks I picked up today from an abandoned railway
I see my belly getting chubbier after copious meals and I
am content.
hair is growing coarser on my inner thighs/ I like to see my veins popping up along my arms
revealing maps of kingdoms i am not meant to rule
finding much pleasure in looking at girls in the metro on the street I think of them in terms of futures/maybes/perhap(pinesse)s/
sometimes
a bit sad to see them walk another way.
I am not complete and never will be
my new scarf is girly
my smile feels crooked and somehow the edges of my lips don't seem able to curve upwards
my poetry is descriptive
pointless like sandcastles
I like to drink beer wine or anything else really
I like to write about what I like
I like black and white photos
I like to look at girls
sometimes I like to boogie and my soul is fluffy like black cotton candy
I like to
feel special and admired 
feel special and admired 
feel special and admired 

când existența îți dă palme în față - te bagi puțin câte puțin mai în tine
până ajungi ghemuit într-un colț din călcâi
când părul meu cade - undeva ninge în același ritm
orice desen de pe mine va dispărea
haideți sa ne dezbrăcăm de orice responsabilitate și să fim goi
ne va fi rușine?

să știi că
              chiar dacă nu am făcut ce trebuia și
                                                                       nimic nu e cum trebuie sa fie
la orizont atârnă o perdea de liniște

mâinile mele se topesc și curg lin pe genunchi/coapse    /inundându-mă
 tăceți, tăceți!
 vocile si existențele voastre sunt sirene
 mă înecați, dobitocilor

orice vine la tine e ca un vierme și va muri
orice lătrat se vrea uitat
lăturile se dau în lături mai înspre mijloc
deasupra se pliază dedesupt
timpul e o funcție a spațiului
we need more time yet you provide more space

lenovo G50
ibanez GSR200
emptiness TS100
fuck off X99

i have no pride. i conjure up the illusion of hiding. i rip off my skin in a silly idea of camouflaging into the background. and i bleed openly.
what if i become the background. the foreground. the center and the sides. the full course the desert and the cognac after.

i keep saying how my life is shit but maybe i should instead mind what i eat

but i'm digressing

                        from myself

the sounds the smokes
run away
return pale.
groove man
soil to grow from
but no sun to grow towards