Saving the World

We wake up to terror attacks and death tolls and we still want our silly little things, small dreams and beach trips, still awake at 5am I long for a different type of violence I penetrate her as hard as the hardest way ever possible so that with each thrust I kick all of her love for me out of her body but no, she keeps loving and caring and I force her into all sorts of filth and some random guys to fuck her brains out but no, whatever I do she wants me. How do I get rid of this? How do we all know if we deserve the unconditional love of someone? She chops cucumber and talks about deep things and I stare through the window watch the Grenfell Tower fire burn hundreds, how little her pain of not having me seemed against this tragedy, I roll in and out of pavements I had created in my head just to keep safe in case of terror attacks or love dramas, and my sweet good girl she’d run and run to catch me in fire and all, she’d run beyond the impossible and she still wouldn’t get me. The time when we do our work, shopping, drinking, chit-chatting that time was our life, do you ever think about it? And you sit around waiting for the next moment, to eat, to get paid, to fuck, to die. Have you tasted life, but I mean literally licked it and have you been the king of the world when you thought you got what you wanted then beat and broken down? Starved, with your bank card, declined over the purchase of a single mandarin orange? I have. One day we’d all know the “secret” of life and we won’t give in to religions and ignorance any more, one day we’d all be warriors and fight and speak up and take risks, then I’ll go to her and I won’t give a damn about her weakness I’ll go. She will half-smile remembering that day in August 2013 when we met and when she was the innocent girl who’d never masturbated before, through hell and heaven on earth, she’d finally be strong enough for me.

How many nights have we slept by now? How often have we mindlessly done things we can’t even remember? When we take all that out how much life is really there? I had a mad impulse and burning flames of urge inside of me to grab time and hold it close squeeze it snuggle with it all night long so it doesn’t escape so we never grow old and we never die if I have to surgically glue it somewhere on me so it doesn’t fall off I’d do it, hell with it I’ll save the world and we’ll all live to see the never-ending times of us, we’ll have enough time to rectify mistakes and fight battles over and over again until we get it right. It seemed exhausting though, going through life again and again and a sudden nausea came over me it made me claustrophobic and cyclothymic and I knew if I had time in my palms I’d let it slip and fly away like a bird and I’d watch it slowly take us to our deaths but the thought of it didn’t scare me just yet, there was life first and if we didn’t live this life we wouldn’t be able to live our next one, if any, so I had the rush to go everywhere and scream the truth and describe to everyone both the hidden and the obvious beauty of everything surrounding us and the possibilities of what could be next, I wanted to violently explode the stream of my inner voice and wake every single soul up.

We cross oceans and skylines we dance at sunset paint beautiful landscapes and despair in tiny apartments drinking wine if we could afford to buy some I walk down the same roads and everything is smaller than ever, my bed is smaller too my ceiling my neighbourhood apart from her love for me — still as big as ever even bigger but I don’t want it, she circles around her house early mornings not high enough on caffeine to just jump and make a big leap so big that it would catch me in a rare moment of intimacy when I wouldn’t tell her to leave when I wouldn’t say I’ll never be with her, my poor little girl she can’t jump so far she stays in her room and when I call her I am in control of my emotions and I’m in power of her body and her long time destroyed heart. When we think we’re strong and powerful everything around us seems much bigger than it actually is and our jobs are not as bad our future longer and lighter, the London weather not so grey and were we supposed to live in illusions that we were forever powerful so that things remain as nice, or should we take in the raw reality that makes us depressed and vulnerable at times? Perhaps that’s why I never wanted to be with her because her vulnerability made me afraid that I might not be forever strong and I couldn’t bear to give in to her enormous and impossible to catch dream just lying on the beach laughing drinking and the universe is eternal and endless and every single fucking thing belongs to us and we belong to each other whether we’re weak or strong, and instead I’m in Ibiza drinking with some girls she’s lonely in her room we’re worlds apart and the border between reality and dreams is getting bigger but somehow we’re both in dream worlds just not in the same dream.

We craved something that transcended yet contained life and we tried to escape submission at any cost, but there were serious amounts of happiness that depended on submission and our bravery to just go, go with life and heighten this feeling of personality by risking who we were by obeying to existence and whatever it got in store for us, instead we just fought and I loved fighting for a cause but what are we all fighting for? Does anyone know and can they tell me? I wanted to save the world but all I could do is reflect on how our actions affected other people’s hearts and what’s the use of it? Our lives shaped up one way or another but every time we seized those particular shapes they were too fast and speeding up like all those Formula 1 cars only that we had no control of the wheels, we were being taken to our birthdays one by one and what happened in between were blurred images of people who loved us if we were that lucky but mostly there was the dignified pain of not being loved back or perhaps at all, some occasional laughing with friends drinking at bars taking baths and all the silly things that didn’t matter but actually mattered because that was all we got, and how did we catch them so we could gaze into them for longer than a flashing second? How did we get a clear image of each moment a conscious moment like if she’d try to remember the exact moment when I touched her wet pussy for the first time and the precise sensation of it and the movements of my fingers and how many times her heart beat. I’m not asking for any repetition I just ask for real consciousness and awareness of each moment of our lives — how do we get that?

Rain wine porn, the usual London mood and anticipations eagerness for something, for her to finally come over, for those Paris trips soon everything coming soon and I was just lying on my sofa with this urgent desire for time to speed up and the hugeness of it in my soul so volcanic even though I realized how precious life was and how we shouldn’t want to skip a second of it bla bla bla, I wanted to go decades and centuries back, high-five and chitchat with Kerouac and Fitzgerald, then forward months ahead to Paris and all the new streets I was going to walk on and the new girls I was going to meet and hopefully fuck and stare at them asking for some truths perhaps something sad or painful, what I’ve been missing in London was seeing that hurt and vulnerable side of people, I almost never saw it and I wanted to run right at this minute far away and as crazy as it may sound, I wanted to find people hurting but also dancing and rejoicing life under singing stars and busy shining skies, and suddenly to feel everyone’s past and present emotional turbulences in my own consciousness and I ached for this raw experience of other people’s ups and downs simultaneously that’s what I needed so I could live better and believe in this given to me and to all of us reality, so I could reach out to whomever I’d ever encounter and tell them not to worry or fear the future because I was going to take care of it and I was going to change their lives, from my sofa with my last glass of wine waiting for her to arrive I dreamt more than I lived, let’s dream some more.

 

 

 

 

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