CANIBALISM

 

I woke up an hour ago.

All lights in this place were out,except from a rounded grand neon-light.It’s night as hell outside and an once pretty waitress hands me a smile and gets my order.

A filthy bar is where i am.

Faces come and go,voices sound sinful or sweet and situations tend to jump out of the dark cave of anyone’s super-ego.Music in here cant make you remember the good things in life either.

 

Dreaming in real life aint easy.

I have seen people trying to make themselves heard for any kinds of reason.

The good kinds.

The bad kinds.

And the no kinds.

I mean,why on earth would you waste time trying to save the big blue whales or the soul of a junkie?

God doesn’t give a damn about them and i don’t see why should i.

Im no god,that’s for sure.

No jesus.

No angels and shit.

I don’t want to be crucified or written down in history as someone good or bad.

Or anyone.

I just want to get a grip of my ridiculous self-esteem and slow things down.

 

Like a machine with a target.

I don’t enjoy humans anyway.

 

Depression?

So be it.

 

Trust?

Not possible.

Friendship and love and all the reasons for getting old with another miserable insecure being?

No thanks.im messed up as it is.

 

To sum it up,i only care about tonight.

 

About my whiskey and the pain its going to get me.

About the lady i am going to fuck like she’s never been fucked before.

About the stories i will have when i grow old.

About me.

No one else.

 

 

The conformingly smiling bartender keeps filling my continuously emptying glass.

Scotch on the rocks,the famous recipe of a thursday night.

I get dizzy.

I notice time.

Clock says she stood me up.ten minutes ago.

I think of time.

We get old.we drive to work.we live in the only way we can.we act like ants of an overrated society,leaded by financial cartels and worlwide conspiracies ready to inspire us or terrorize us for their own purposes.

We watch tv and we take care of our pets or network friends more than ourselves as if that’s of any value.

Isolation of the 21^st century is a gift.

Wrapped up in a golden invisible package of fear.

 

Women are confused,men no longer exist and try to escape from this reality,homosexuals gain power and fame and altogether,we all try to hide our shame for what we really are :stupid little brats,who find themselves laying bare naked in a crossroad of changes.

No real purpose in life.

 

Hitchhikers of knowledge,in search of wealth,or revolutionaries from another era,it don’t mind.

When in danger,the human species will do anything to survive.

The –so called- civilisation is the mother of survivalism.

Isolation is the mother of canibalism.

And people love to get back into their primal instincts.

 

 

So,be it.

I chose differently from most people.

 

At least,i know my path.

 

My glass gets empty one more time.i feel the known warm hand of a woman holding my arm.i hear her saying “paul”.

Isabelle is here.

Not a word is needed.we kiss and i forget everything.

The violent crosspath of our tongues makes me nautious after a while.

Somewhere deep inside me,my heart traps me with the idea of kissing my best friend’s only love.

 

When i realize how horny she is,i forget all about it and decide to fuck her anyhow.canibalism.

Isolation.passion.and i step into action,when i hear my cock’s          -need to have sex-  percussion.

I take her to the back seat of my dirty smelly old car and i publicly fuck her,just like she wants me to.

People can hear us and she knows.

 

She’s getting the animal out of her system.

Maybe that’s what sex was intended for.

 

And if i have to say anything about it,if you can get someone to show you his dark side,he will never forget you.

Trust me,a long story so far.

That’s what politicians do.

True theory,never fails.

Never fails.

Everybody wants to be the naughty lamp of a dirty,wise isolated god.

 

Wouldn’t you?