To whom it may concern

To whom it may concern: it is a different day in July and I am lying down on this sofa, thinking nothing,
Doing nothing but waiting, simply waiting, nothing
If I were waiting for something than it means I am doing something, but I seek nothing, wait nothing and do nothing, my brain composes everything, day by day, all the roles and stories are shaping up as soon as I open my eyes In the morning, once I had a god, now it’s just myself left
Thoughts and drifting.
I wait for my chance, and inspiration within
And as soon as I catch her, I’ll rape her
And have kids.
And the gods will be delighted

The boss

He woke up around 12am, stayed in bed for an hour thinking of the next thing, singularity.
It was around 1.37 pm he went into the kitchen and got a peanut butter and 3 pieces of bread, he liked peanut butter, at least he looked like,
He ate the 3 pieces of bread, drunk a water and there was nothing else to do.
He went back to bed and stayed in for few more hours, listened to music. He didn’t had no money, he didn’t had any cigarettes left too, which really stressed him out, around 8 o clock he got ready and went to his new job that he will start 2 days later, he just went there to see it, watch it a little bit and meet the people there, it was a waitering job, he stayed in there for 2 hours helping out the people and so on, than he realised that he was starting on Monday,
He went next to his boss and said, ” well I’m going now, I’ll see you on Monday”
“Why aren’t you staying and helping out, don’t you see it’s busy here” said the owner of the restaurant
“I did stay for 2 hours and I’m starting on Monday it’s enough”
“Ok, go home come on Monday”
He went home, brought a single cigarette for 50p
It was his last money in his pocket, he got home and sat down got himself a coffee and smoked it, it felt nice.
His phone rang and it was the owner of the restaurant,
“Find yourself a another job, you are not the right person for here”
He laughed and put the phone down on his face, there was a mirror in the room where he could see himself from where he was sitting,
He looked at himself smiled,
And felt bad.

July 2nd

Every man is a fault of unable to be himself
And their ignorance is soft,
They can’t break it,
Every word is money
Meaningless but essential
Every act is a copy and without want
Habits of unknown
Every fight is for yourself
And with yourself
Every lie is your owns
Every tear is a fault of wisdom
Fruit of existing
Every loser is wiser
Than before
And there is no winner
Every woman is like an Hollywood actress
But they acting is reality
Every woman is the tester of men
And some men learns a little
And some don’t
It is better to not to learn
Once you understand the teachings
Darkness has more little but
More brighter light
But the days are better than the night,
And this poem finds it hard to end
It is dark
And cold outside
It’s the July the 2nd

Green blue white

You used to be the sun
On a rainy day
That gave a birth to rainbows within me
You were the butterfly
Wondered around in my garden
You use to visit me time to time
And I use to watch you
While you were there
And touch you
Sometimes you’d fly away
You didn’t like me to touch you
Though I knew you weren’t gentle
Life made you hard, before me
I never did
Perhaps I tried soften you up
Which hurt you and you didn’t like it
Maybe you were afraid
Afraid of love
Or pleasure
Or something
Maybe you weren’t afraid. At all
You just didn’t want me to touch you
But I did
I touched you with my heart
So gently
You almost never felt it
I do not know
Who is touching you
With their different parts

Our past and ourselves

The old musicians sang “don’t worry”
Without any hope and energy
Without any spirit, then
They finished it and started to sing no woman no cry,
And all the men felt little hope and motivated, and the women felt good and they sang along
Knowing the truth
With a smile up on their face
Joy in their heart
Proud of been there
Being a woman
And they sang
And they were there knowing something we didn’t know
And us
Just looked at them
Like we didn’t care
But I and them
With our old lovers in our heart
And In our heart as the music went on,
And near to end of the song
Some men went out for fag