Life Loves The Liver of It

There are some who can live without wild things and some who cannot. — Her submission had so much power to it, it made me go back to her every time I decided to prove the level of my own power she has changed and me too and it’s all gone higher it has escalated to unknown territories for both up on the roof she dances slowly in her slip the sun shines and I’m somewhere already watching her suppress all of her morals all of herself all for me and not for any other man in the room. The whole of humanity is tied together because of our never-ending and silly dreaming but we rarely realise how far we’ve have come in life we don’t need to ask any questions anymore we flow to the next step and we’re being guided to further regions we are being brought closer to who we are supposed to be and closer to others too because the distance between us all was now longer than the sky, we had to do something. And perhaps submission was our saviour and our power weapon, we had to be submissive to everything in life, open and curious chasing what we love and putting up boundless fights for it from the bottom of our minds saying it all out, just all in.

Life loves the liver of it, sitting in the hot sun on the grass booking unaffordable flights to Berlin and some highways in tiny towns learning about how to sink in all life spontaneously and simultaneously with every single thing, do it and whatever happens you’d be alright you’d make it somehow, sing some national anthems on Alexanderplatz with strangers, witness Germany beat Italy beautifully at the Euro, call the one you love share excited joys and don’t care whether they respond or not, sing your song nevertheless that’s what it’s about – being brave enough to say stuff from your lungs not about some outcomes that were still and indefinite while life was constantly flowing and I loved everything that flowed my mind and typing and rushing blood and tears and distant shores even the ugly London rain which didn’t concern me at this very moment I was on the road shouting the things I felt and believed we’ll all get there and it will be golden.

Instead, we shared our girlfriends and spent innumerable hours of the day every fucking day sinking in ignorance and it was blissful and unimaginably stupid and we hung on to it forever and ever not being able to look up high enough to find that rumoured ecstasy of the stars – it was there, somewhere above the faceless civilization and the impossible-to-believe heartbreaks and violence in this small world of ours. We hurt and shot each other over anything over nothing while everybody was on their phones looking at the exact same thing at the exact same time thinking the same. I imagined her immaculate pain putting on those little white socks knowing I won’t be able to see them this time and perhaps ever and she tucked them in her black ankle boots as quickly as she could she put on her leather jacket and carried on with her life with another lover who’d also end up going in a different direction in what it would seem billions of miles across the space and most of the spheres.

How much of life was happening to us, how much of life were we building? We couldn’t force and drag things and people around, we were useless in re-ordering realities as we wanted them to be, what was in our power apart from the wishes for golden eternities and peace? What could we do for those doomed souls who loved us despite our ignorance, what could we do for the whole humanity that kept losing their friends and families in acts of terrorism? I ran out of wine and energy to keep up with my thoughts and fast heart beats and desires to bring her back and have all victims of any pain saved and covered up in stardust and protected for the rest of their lives, this was the kind of power I wished for and nothing else, I saw myself standing on top of the world on a pedestal spreading some goodness out there and for a brief moment of time I almost did it for real.

There she is on the wall timid, willing. I make her forget about any fragments of spacious dreams and occasional waves of some midnight longings or shallow thoughts, what’s the use of them? We dare to suppress our morals for a bit then go back to our shells, we separate ourselves each on their own way to some mildly happy interests we never stay together, not even when we walk in the streets, in buildings each one of us on stupid phones inside tangible futures, weekend bar crawls more wall fucking, escapes to wherever we get to but nowhere immensely huge soul-feeding freedom-evoking and no coming together, non of that. No taller trees nor vast mountains of rains, her desirous bipolar mind clinging to my arm while I drive I keep her next to me she keeps me looking higher I tell her to drop all worldly distrusts and tragic thoughts only for today anyway – people never form a whole we make each other delirious then we take the road to other regions to breathe in and other lovers to feed with dopamine. She rises up empty and wild, not so free from her hesitant and pensive mind her hair falls flat on her moist back the sand and the sea and the sweat from wanting and wanting wanting me now and ever, thousands of golden eternities watch her along with me we watch her move and get confused in her own worlds she’s art, what do you fucking expect, she’s my little toy, I’d take her right at this moment and have her any way but I let her wonder fear joyously jump around me leave me come back beg me shake and cry and laugh, she is everything and I still let her go.

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