the wakeup

The sun always sets and rises.Stars come out,fewer every day.Neighbors will tell you goodmorning and to “take care of your -always pooping-dog”.Newspaper time,right before breakfast.Headlines about the power and misery of the world and the little news about the charm and beauty of a falling actor who’s just given up drugs or the new release of a pop-star’s record,whose popularity is not even remarkable.

Fuck.

Why bother and read these shit?

My mind always gets badly triggered in the mornings.

I say don’t you have an opinion of your own,man?

I say cant you make sense without a stupid guideline?

Cant you read between the lines,without the stupid lines?

 

Cant you see everyone is useful as long as they play along,don’t complain and pay their taxes?

 

Doorbell.drrrrrrn.

My door invites me to a morning surprise.

Final question comes in mind.

 

Why does the fucking doorbell have to always sound so fucking irritated?

Why not choose a more soothing sound?That would be a nice future job.I might as well place an ad tomorrow and result-laugh.

“WANTED woman who is willing enough to get to record her orgasm for a doorbell sound.Fee:an orgasm.Ages 15-45.Blondes have to get a blowjob too.”

Drrrrrn.dddrnnnn.

“ok,ok,i get it”.

The door opens.

Time stops instantly.

A shadow appears and in a very stylish and silent way turns into a 35 year old man,with rayban sunglasses and brown long hair.

Man,i got to stop the pot.

His look is certain and straight.

I don‘t know him,i think.

He doesn’t seem hostile,yet he gives me the creeps.

“hi.you must be wondering what the fuck i want,8 ‘o clock in the morning,standing here,looking at you and smoking”.

Self-confident son of a bitch i think to myself

And i protest slowly:

“but you aint smoking man.”

A match comes out of his right pocket and answers my question.

“now i am”,he replies slowly.temperature goes high.

He smokes deeply and makes his throat hurt.He waits and then I say.

-so,what do you want?

-let’s chat,baby boy.ask me inside.now.

 

The iron smile of a 45er makes me shut up and swallow my ego.

 

“he cant kill me,he cant kill me”,i think all the time.it’s the middle of the day,neighbours saw us,he cant be that crazy.

Anyhow,we end up inside,in my living room.

Scotch on the rocks, he says and no funny moves.

We gotta talk,he says.

Who the fuck is that guy,i keep asking myself.

Once his lips got wet,he asked me to put on some music.

“and not the pretentious crap kids love these days”,he added.

Guess we have something in common,after all,i think.

Faith no more or 16 horsepower,i asked.

Whatever,he says really calmly.

 

Man,i thought.

This guy was drinking my whiskey,threatened me with a gun,might even kill me and still,i cant seem to think something bad about him.

 

His looks and skills have something hypnotic.

 

The chat began right when i sat.

He offered me a cigarette.we were now both smoking and acting like true pals who havent seen each other for a long time.

A lot less awkward than expected.

With his face staring thoroughly at me,he disarmed his gun and apologised for his behaviour.

But it was necessary,he explained.

He smoked passionately and then took off his rayban and for the very first time,

His “glass” eye was revealed.

That’s when it hit me.

 

I know this guy.

Questions

-ok,so what about obama?

Black needed to be oppressed and start to be lookalikes of average joe.denzel washington and mr’s daisies chauffeur and sidney pollak were the first scouters.oh,and jim,from hawk fin.actually mark twayn is ours.

-ok,so what about u2?

Pop nerds destroying rock n roll hope during a sold out dream.

-ok,so what about michael jordan?Major sports mixup by putting a black street kid achieving greatness wearing a greek symboled shoe.

-ok,so what about blink 182?Well,that was wrong.and cruel.sorry about that.

-ok,so what about hitler?Someone to hate what people hate today:jews.someone stupid enough and crazy to lose it all.imagine the worlds only feeling be hate.Society just needed an icon to a mortal combat with Jesus.

-ok,so what about animals?Animals were here before you.they messed up quickly when they all chose a different role and got confused forever.drugs do that,you know.we thought it would be more fun if we gave you religions and feelings.animals just needed sex,food and water.boring.like an old british town.

-ok,so what about internet?Greatest trick ever.a new market for everyone.of ideas,nudity,fear,feelings and actually,the greatest new show we ve had in years.bill gates is a great producer.steve jobs is an ass.

-ok,so what about bob dylan?He is my childhood friend.

-ok,so what about women?Someones got to feel weak most of the time.

-ok,so what about men?Someone must be weak most of the time.

-ok,so what about gay? It got boring with only 2 sexes.And men needed something to be afraid so that they would never have the balls to be man enough and realize that women are better,they are God and you don’t need them,except for the sex part and that’s just how things were was for more than a thousand years.

-ok,so what about sex?Dont be stupid.sex is the only thing worth dying for.

-ok,so what about love?Love is a luxury when you aint got anything better to do.

-ok,so what about friendship?Eternal give and take of insecurities with random people.fear of freedom seduces people into each other.

-ok,so what about family?The more,the better.your place,your rules.stuff like that.nothing more.A blood and politics exchange.

-ok,so what about colours and racism?There were more than a hundred different colours always.you never seemed to notice that colours change people’s feelings.even the slightest difference is seen,but not undestood by your stupid brain.this is what changes your mood everyday.colour.ever had an lsd,dude?Awesome.

-ok,so what about art?Art is life itself.a game where you cant win,only feel complete for a while.Art is made to be always imperfect somehow.Thats why anyone gets it.

-ok,so what about sports?Rules imply a thousand thoughts.interesting experiment.tell someone he has to run or jump,dress him like  a child and will people like it?Lets see.something like that.

future ends someday

Chapter future

You think people are gonna miss this moment for ever?

No,nobody is that smart.they all think its just another moment.they are not kids.

Yeah,all heart dead now.mind is weak.swallow eyes syndrome they call it nowadays..

 

 

Chapter end something

Think they will mind about anything when they leave this place?

I don’t know man.its scary to care.welcomes you to despair.despair sucks.all we should do is give one another hope about tomorrow.

Love is all you need,but i hate the forgiveness part.

True.

You think if i killed you would anyone mind or care?

What?No.no one.

(boum.he kills him with a shotgun.then,he starts to cry.)

What have i done?Who am i?Why did i kill my only friend?Was it boredom?Was it fun?Was it curiosity?Was it an accident?

Oh,well.i ll never figure it out.

Childhood

I used to talk to the cats.get nervous all the time.go to the toilet very rarely,but when going staying there for long.i used to count the stars before sleeping.i used to play with things who had no soul.i used to run all the time without a point.i used to feel free.i used to feel quilty for being already an adult.

I remember a kiss with a strange girl whose name i couldn’t care less now.i remember getting sick and feeling unfamiliar.i remember being afraid from the wind on the windows.

 

I forget the games,the stray cats,the bikes,the dirt on my knees,football and smoking and drinking and fucking for the first time.

I forget myself as a child.

 

I feel again.as a grownup.

Who wishes to be a child once more.

Jam Inside Hawk Finn's Head

One good way of destroying the nation is by founding a tv network who works like a fucking ticking clock.Like a flawless time machine.That calculates its word its rime and would be ready to do a perfect crime.Esu know,like the ones Morgan Freeman is always trying to solve in a movie from his early 90’s career.

You know.

That era where everything was better.When you could drink a beer with a cool homeless guy and feel naughty and proud at the same time and you could never find yourself in a -no fucking  cop around being able to beat you till you faint and never seen it in the news- situation.

Where dirt was still dirt and love was still a Bon Jovi crap but funnier and you could smile without having some Big Brother infected average guy trying to look inside your soul,like he’s a fucking cat.

He is a Cat People.

Cat People appeared in 2005.They were Almost Real People’s children who died when heard metal.

The way people react to metal has defined humanity ever since.Kidding.Could be true though.

Cock.

Everybody reacts when told a nasty word.

That is the second way humanity was raised and divided and afterwards abused.

By awkwardness and then by manners and then by civilization and then by origin,colour,pair of jeans,a Michael Jordan or a Dennis Rodman fan,or even a guy who gives a fuck about his soul and the rest of the world.

Or a guy who doesn’t.

This guy is Jam.

 

Jam doesn’t give a fuck about anything.Jam wants to get lost in adventures and take revenge from anyone he finds unworthy,like a pirate or a cool kid from a childish gang,like the ones we always thought we had.

My gang’s name was “Awkward Sally”.

The name came out of Waylan’s head after voting for three hours in my place about an appropriate name ,in relevance to Tom Waits song lookalikeness,Iggy Pop proudness and our hate for Sally,owner of the Cat People’s local fan club.

Our first debate was about taking revenge from Sally.

I had many ideas,such as urrinating on her milk or filling her scoolhbag with dead fishes or making her fall in love with each and every one of us and then dump her.

Birdy had a bigger suggestion though.Making her listen to Burzum till she dies.Tie her,choke her and spank her for every time she tries to say anything.

And rape her until she faints with Venom masks.

The thing just said was the most awkward thing to hear from a brown haired short thin eleven year old boy.

So,we did it.

We decided to kill Sally.

After all,it was our club’s only law.We would do the thing that made us more awkward just to make sure we were cool enough to do it.

After all,we are “Awkard Sally”,my name is Jam and this is the story of my gang.

And its cool to be Jam,the guy who pisses on the streets with pride."

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Jam stopped talking for a while.He looked into the surprised eyes of his African American company and let himself think clearly of the situation.That was a tricky one.

Three blocks away,it was still snowing.Lara Shaft was there,cursing her god and all his creations about the undying misery of working in the cold so that you can suck a man’s cock and raise your child.

Lara Shaft was a whore,and a pretty good one too.She didn’t do it just for the money.Lara had a disease that “people” would call nymphomania.

Unfortunately,Lara wanted to have sex with as many men as possible as long as she could.Lara didn’t know why.Her gyno,Eric had a theory though.

It was perhaps the fact that she had been raped several times by her father that made her believe in her mind somehow that the only way she could get some attention by her daddy,was a good old lapdance with a Motley Crue song on the record or let him cum on her red cheerleader uniform.

Lara was happy these days more than confused.She nevr got why her mither took all those pills and druk all that South.

“Women are sometime easy to push”,she thought about her mom.”She could have it so much better,even for my sake”.

“When I grow up,I ll be so much better”.

Her mother took revenge from this world three years ago,hung up to a painted gold chandelier and a suicide note with spelling mistakes.

She is about to get revenge from this world in three blocks.She just doesn’t know yet.

She is now done sucking a cock.Her purse gets 50 more bucks.

Her purse seems less hungry now.”Another satisfied customer,some thousands to go”,she thinks.

Her baby just said her first word on the other side of the town.Her baby’s name was Jennifer.

Jennifer’s nanny smiled and then smoked another pot.She smiled again.It was a sweet pot,she thought,and then called her dealer to buy some more.

The dealer smiled too.

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?

StinkFist

I remember my early days of pain,right after my break up with “i”.

Paul armstrong,a great friend at the time,has just bought a tone of pot and was eager enough to help me wash the pain away.

Paul studied philosophy and looked things with a rather amusing perspective.

Now that i think about it,this conversation might have just gotten me where i am today.it’s the little things,they say,you never forget.

-love is such a big crap.it’s just another devise,like religions,sports or rock n roll

You gotta get a hold of your self man.

You don’t need her.

Now give me another zip.

 

The dorm laid silent for a while.the two students looked each other intesively.temperature got high.a burning mixed cigarette was the only thing moving inside the dark room that smelled teenage wasteland all over the place.

 

“-man,cool it off.”

 

But i wasn’t cool no more.

“-”i” isnt like that.she cares.

Im the one who fucked it up.i love her and she loves me.”

 

I could hear myself lie.

It’s always weird.

In addition,i was a bit stoned,so i wondered how i would look if my nose got bigger,like pinokio.

“so,please let’s think something.im fucked up as it is.dont make it worse.”

 

Truth always hurts.

I hope he sooths me up.

 

“-man,just don’t serve the servants,that’s all im saying.maybe youre too good for her.never underestimate yourself, man.

Love and affairs and all that shit are so old-fashioned.”

 

The lighter was proved useful one more.

I got the cigarette and smoked as much as i could.

Felt like a real bad-ass.

 

-what the fuck are you saying,man?

“-look,it’s that simple.men gotta fuck in order to remain healthy and balanced.statistics say that,not me.”

 

Paul laughs and looks me right in the eyes.im thinking i must seem weird.

I feel bad about myself.paul slaps me friendly and says:

“you have a –so called- serious relationship.a relationship that is supposed to make you mature,a grown up and a steady person.yet,i fuck more than you,i never worry about any redhaired chicks and i don’t stay up at nights wondering where she is.and you know the worst part:it happens to everyone.everyman has to face this.

You know why?Cause men are vulnerable and chicks know that and then,my dear friend,they step on you.

But ,they only like you when you look self-confident and strong.”

“-but that doesn’t make any sense.”,i tell him and lie once more.

-and your precious little “i” is now in,what i call,the “duffy duck theory”.”

A questionmark is drawn into my face.

“-charm,my friend,is a wonderful gift,that all women possess.

You my friend are the gay bunny.

”i”is the duck in this little looney tunes production of ours.

And when “daffy duck”, children’s favorite duck hero ,

Overcomes the stupid bunny and becomes “the new kid on the block”,

He simply”-now he’s shouting-“doesn’t know what to do.

 

He’s always been trying to get there

And now he’s confused.it looks high for the first time and he likes it.

 

Like a real lady.

Who just wants to get laid a lot and earn some respect from all guys to prove she is not afraid of real life.

 

Worried.

Dragged.

Unexplicable.

Helpless.

But also beautiful,strong and extremely charming,when it comes to a woman with nice tits and not a black fictional duck.

 

Perfect theory man.

Never fails.

Once the chick is the new “bugs”,she’s gone.

And elmer-fucking-fad is gonna shoot you,in the face,

In cold blood.

 

 

So forget about her.

Now and forever.cause love is crap.”

He smiles with confidence.

I cant refuse a backsmile.

 

We end up laughing.

 

“i” is gone.

So,it begins.

 

Hurts a lot now that i think of.

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