[Art by tobiee.deviantart.com] |
I am in a grumpy mood. It was not a good night. I spent two hours, from 04:00 am to 06:00 am tossing and turning on the sweat drenched sheets. Then another hour, from 06:00 to 07:00 staring at the ceiling. I finally fell asleep after 07:00 and woke up around 09:30 to 10:00. Unsurprisingly, I was in a bad mood although by now the particular routine is all too familiar to me. There are nights I cannot sleep until the sun has risen, and that's that. I miss my youth, when I was asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow... Haha.
I saw you in my sleep. You embraced me fondly as soon as you saw me and we chatted. It matters not. I don't care what happens in my dreams when my waking time is so different. It just adds to my bad mood when I finally wake up. I could have emailed you and told you about the other things I saw in the dream concerning you but what difference would it make? Would you listen? No, you'd probably freak out and run away even faster. Bah, I cannot be bothered anymore. I really can't. Run, knock your head on the usual walls you do, drink yourself stupid as you do anyway, take drugs, fuck around, try to escape your own self in every single kind of meaningless instant gratification you use. See what changes, what gives, what stays. And in the morning ask the stranger in the mirror what he wants from his life to receive the same shrug as a response.
I should not be ironic, I know. I am not doing much better with my life; I would not know what meaning was even if it bit me in the arse one sunny morning. The only difference between you and I is that my body is still intact, because I respect it far too much to abuse it. Or because I am too much of a coward to dabble in the area of permanent alteration, save, of course, for my beloved tattoos. But meaning? Bah. Meaning is a lie. The only things keeping me here are untold stories and new songs I am waiting to discover and paintings to fall in love with. So decipher your life as best as you can and I'll struggle with mine. You might even be happier than I am; happiness, as I had written in my latest short story, is often found in the strangest places. So forgive me if I sounded like I was judging you. It's my disappointment speaking. I could and should do better than this.
I should not be ironic, I know. I am not doing much better with my life; I would not know what meaning was even if it bit me in the arse one sunny morning. The only difference between you and I is that my body is still intact, because I respect it far too much to abuse it. Or because I am too much of a coward to dabble in the area of permanent alteration, save, of course, for my beloved tattoos. But meaning? Bah. Meaning is a lie. The only things keeping me here are untold stories and new songs I am waiting to discover and paintings to fall in love with. So decipher your life as best as you can and I'll struggle with mine. You might even be happier than I am; happiness, as I had written in my latest short story, is often found in the strangest places. So forgive me if I sounded like I was judging you. It's my disappointment speaking. I could and should do better than this.
A dear friend of mine is back from the "dead". I thought I had lost him for good but no, he's made a comeback I never expected. I am still too shocked for words, but happy. Life gives you lemons in abundance but from time to time also treats you to a big chocolate cake. I hope he stays. I have known him for so long and our qualities are so similar that he's a landmark in my existence.
I miss my heroes. I miss their qualities in my daily interactions with humans.
Next time I see Dorian I'll ask him to kill someone for me and I'll watch.
But Dorian is not part of this reality.
I am no part of this reality either.
So we're even.
I need to have more tattoos. This will solve pretty much everything. I am certain it will.