But Who Wants an Easy Life? It’s Boring.

The unbearable lightness of beings was so light I could float around and inside all this vanity endlessly and just sob and cry and ejaculate and be hysterical and shout right in the middle of it and nobody would notice nobody was feeling anything in this huge world, nobody was feeling anything at all but her and her impossible-to-describe pain of not being able to be with me the moments when she’d text me and I won’t reply because she’s too weak when she’d dream of me and I’d tell her to fuck someone else, the Kensington parties, not enough wine and too many tears the bottles of wine being poured in glasses were just like her heart pieces pouring out, it was exactly the same all the way down to the bottom and when she was emptied out she’d still feel the same love for me. My poor little girl aching for me when it was time to dance and love life and laugh with friends and be silly and all easy, how much was taken away from us by time – it was grabbing our nights, night by night and then we’d only have a couple of days left to live, do you ever think of that? One day we’d only have a couple of days left and we were living as if we’d never die and it was beautiful and stupid, it was stupid to believe we’d somehow survive the destruction of our bodies and we’d be young and never wrinkled, I wish everybody could understand we would be alone at the end of time but we won’t be so alone in our aloneness by then and who knows, perhaps she’d finally have me too. I try to escape those vain times, I leave the party way too early to hide under cheap duvets and think of saving people, I can’t even save myself.

Roading half laughed-out half cried-out of everything Monaco casino early mornings €50 richer higher than before I lie down on some sands of lost images in the middle of the night – escaping posh parties and useless red Ferraris, escaping those inexhaustible hopes chasing me despite of my resistance to believe in anything that moves the waves, makes more stars pop out, something that keeps us awake when we haven’t slept in 48 hours driving around rich rivieras, homeless and stubbornly refusing to sleep I have as much coffee as I can until it makes me sick and then I go drinking wines under palm trees wondering how was it possible that the universe had so much tranquility and rage simultaneously. I felt disgusting in my dirty clothes unwashed for days sleep deprived, starved, but how fucking grateful I was just as equally, for being alive to see this breeze today and the closure of people around me and I ran I ran away wanting to be left alone scared of myself and my noisy emotions, everyone was still asleep why don’t they wake up and feel this world the way I feel it, there is so much to be poured out of us, I could have easily died right there on that sand exploding deeply from my organs and my poor beat soul still jumping vividly from the too-many highs and lows, after I die my soul won’t stop there, and all the people dreaming of getting stuff will know it’s not about getting anything at all, I have nothing now but I have everything along with the tortures of my youth and my sensitivity that keep me alive and that will drive me to ashes one day but don’t worry, this is life what I have while I am writing what you have while you are reading, go get that life, not the ‘stuff’.

The world will end at dawn and it won’t be sudden, it will end one day at a time, starting with us and our so-called process of growing older and the aching realisation of it and the failed attempts or dreams of becoming rebels and standing up for ourselves and for others, of speaking up and singing the truth by heart and endlessly so. No, we just wake up go to work go drinking go fucking go sleeping. The many landscapes and phases of the Earth change minute by minute and nothing ever changes for us, and why should it? We have it all, free smartphones and Instagram likes, cheap travel cheap drugs and easy lay, every single day, what a dream we have it all but we have nothing so the end of the world won’t end one day at dawn or sunset, it has already started to cease slowly in between our ignorance to drama because it was so much hassle despite the truth in it, in between the parties we were so looking forward to just to see the same faces we wouldn’t even talk to party after party, in between our 20s and 50s it was all a mere moment in time before we’d wake up and it didn’t matter if we were alone or with anybody, we would be alone either way so I tried to drink myself to sleep and not think about any of this because thinking was only a way of missing the point anyway, I drank so that it would be tomorrow already and I’d be getting closer to the day I was going to see her and the more I anticipated days the more days I lost and I kept on losing, I kept on losing.

It was all too much and yet not enough so we’d say goodbye to each other and then reunite because she had found some type of porn that she knew I’d like and the thought of not being able to share it with me would tear her apart and make her go around in circles of whether to text me or not, ask all of her friends, her therapist, her inner voice, her brain, how silly – her brain had long given up and joined her heart by now in her pursue of me and my desires, I refuse to accept her love it’s all too much believe me, I wake up super early super horny, I read my Financial Times and go to work, deal with what I have to deal go on dates with different women watch some porn and get a few hours of sleep. What do you except me to do? Call her and tell her I love her too? And then what? Is this life? Accepting the love of someone isn’t our purpose or duty or obligation, I run towards the future that I build I hope to make billions and have my dream house then choose some strong woman to never let me fall off into such a pointless lifestyle again, so I am still on my way home how much time we spend going from one place to another; the flights we can’t sleep through wide awake we stare at the approaching sky I never liked to look at the sky when it was so close, it somehow made me feel bigger and taller than I actually was, and nature was only supposed to make us feel small and insignificant but so fucking powerful too we were powerful to have the courage to live and state what we want or who we love in spite of the knowledge of the big-ness of this world, I was proud of her for wanting me no matter what and giving everything to be with me, my little girl she was weak and helpless but she made me realise how powerful we all were, I wish to be like her and like you, tell her I love her.

Big window, 452 bus French songs cigarettes, the out-of-date poppers, endless mind games, so many things and explanations I’d jump right off this window if that could save the millions of aching hearts too dizzy with love to recognize who they really were, I’d save them all and I’d let everyone just be who they are and they’d still be loved. But instead, I am a coward. I don’t jump, I just stare at the road not sending her any message to reassure her I’d still be there if she refuses to play, if she refuses to let go of me. We go back to childhood games, memories of swinging in the yard anticipating our birthdays worried about grades at school and the type of lives we imagine ahead, where has it all gone? Who have we become? Would our young selves be proud of us, or would they watch us painfully at the scenery of all this vanity and settlement? Settlement was the worst and I’d rather keep my volcanic heart and rage over everything than accept this coldness and endless nose-powdering, I’d fight against acceptance of anything that didn’t make my heart and the hearts of others run miles away up and down the globe consistently from now on until eternity and beyond the unmeasurable. I think to myself, that might just be the way she feels about me and I still don’t call her, it’s all too much she’s willing to do everything for me and I’m not gonna let her lose herself, so instead I look through the window I see us both lost and found in this world,, a reality too real to ever be. I stare at the few stars, my body so still, my insides as wild as anything truly alive, what do I do? What do we all do? How do we live our lives? Who do we love?

 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s