the only one



I'm so wrapped up in a daze
Hoping this is just a phase
But when all is said and done
I know you are still the one
You're the only one
You're the only one
Cupid's bow it stung
Now you're the only one

dust on the trunks

you what
fuck this shit
I don't care if you refuse to talk to me
until graduation
I'm happier this way
I'll dance my ass off with
the guy who's been
my "friend" all this time
I'll film videos with your
friends and
play piano until
I get all of
arcade fire's songs right
I will read all the books I haven't
I won't
I won't
watch the tv series you told me to watch
or read the book you gave me


but this is no promise
I make no promises
this is just
a necessary change
in the course of action

millionaires do not hit me

a debate opens
and someone says
"millionaires do not hit on
their children because
they have money."
well babe I'm
no millionaire but
I'm sure my basic needs
are more than covered.
and I'm also sure
that though my physique
remains intact
my own family
tells me
I have mental issues.
that I'm an idiot.
that I'm to blame.
that I'm not capable of
doing things because
I'm fat. or way too anxious.
and when
I tell them
I suffer from domestic violence
nobody cares
because
they have never seen me
with a broken arm.
or a violet eye.

I wonder if they
ever saw
the scars on my wrists
or the bags under my eyes
or whatever is
it I do
to punish myself.

but millionaires do
not hit on their children.
they give you money, honey.
and that's from where
you buy your drugs.

maybe it's the same.

rules to live by

1. never trust your leaders
2. don't do to others what you don't want them to do to you
3. don't make promises
4. everyone will let you down
5. if you lose, you're doing it wrong

offfffffffff

I decided
I need a new hobby.

something like
knitting or
a book club.

something that
just doesn't involve
love.

I am done
with all relationships.

and open grounds.
mosquitoes suck.

you could really use a shrink

my dad
broke up with his girlfriend
and she
and my step sister
left.
he lost contact with his family:
his father
his mother
the woman who cleaned the house quitted.
but he lost me a long time ago.
he lost everyone
who cared about him.

at least he's still got a job.

now the house is a mess.
the cat barely gets fed.
we barely talk.

the icing on the cake was
the two month voyage
across the
atlantic ocean.

he lost it all
when he was about to achieve
his dream.
he traded it all
for a caprice.

I think is a tragedy
but as far as I am
concerned
this tragedy is not mine.
thus
I
can't
care.

it's selfish
but true.
when you step out
of your box
there are worse
tragedies
than yours.

but I don't need
to know that.

maybe it's
for self-preservation.

(but everything I do
is for self preservation:
not getting angry
lacking sympathy
and empathy
being absent
being omniscient
and really
just not giving
a fuck.)

I wonder if he's having
fun
in
Morroco.

oh the irony

after years and years and
years of 
being forgotten
everytime I went back
to a place 

and because of 
my nomad
nature

I learnt
how to 
disappear.

it's funny
because I can
sense
the breaking point
in any relationships 
I have.

I can't accept
breaking apart from 
things,
and if I do
I do it abruptly

and I hurt
everyone.

and I gain
enemies.

and everyone
is disappointed
in my inconsistencies.

so am I,
believe me.

after
so many loved ones
I left behind
I sense
goodbye handshakes

and heart breaking
speeches and
hugs which
will never be the same.

life is always
changing
around me
and if I had
to live with
my past
I would be 
dead already.

that's why
I disappear
from resposibilities
and maybe
that's also why
I can't
apologize.

the soul of man under socialism

one
will live.

to live is
the rarest
thing in the
world.

most people
exist,

that is
all.

build/unbuild

while I laid there
the sheets came undone
entangled in the nightmares
I was woken up by thunder.

the eyelashes
struggled to
move apart

I found I was just laying
alone
in the sheets
cold
and the room was darker than your eyes.

I had nightmares in which
your stare pierced more than any weapon
but it was vacant, drained.
how can I tear apart the fiction?

it's inside me
it's eating me
the frustration
the fear

it takes decades
to build an empire
and it takes a man
to bring it down

my chest struggles to breathe
I try to put the covers back
in place but I can't sleep
anymore; I was woken up
by the thunder

in my head
it rains
all the time





auto-boycott

I try to be strong you know
and you just love to put up the fight
it gets tiring to wake up in the morning
and have nothing to get up for

I try, I try so fucking hard
to bear in mind
that I'm doing all of this
to keep you out of my heart

I try, but your waves are so strong
you crash me, crash me,
every day,
and almost every night.

and you know you could've
just said 'no'
and it'd been alright for me
but oh how you like to claim your prizes

am I?
am I your victory?
did you manage to rule me over?
or is this a tide?

I will always wonder
until the day you realize
you always run from your problems
and you'll make up your mind

I guess that's why I became a diver

how can people stay in shallow waters
when the deepest
darkest
part of the ocean
holds the richest
most intriguing
parts?

how can you be contempt with
a minor fraction
shared with everyone
a tiptoe
into what the universe
and the world
actually are?

yes
you can get lost in the depths
but you can also
find yourself