seandearth

cadence teardrop senseless sentence. and then it all blows up. the figurines, the sex, careless flesh all around mixed with alcohol everyone drowning private issues in public disgrace. paying for someone else to lick their tasteless wounds, suffocate them, tie them, smell them, curse them. and when the rituals are finnally over, return to their homes, where they choose to hide. just let everything out, and then slit your innner thoughts. just bottle up your demands and differences. just let it creep up no more, and sleep for a while.

why have to make choices. why can't it be like the coming and going of the sea, keeping the tide warm, free of riddles and cliffs. i cant even understand anymore, and my eyes wont cry. let it be said that destiny is chosen by few, but confronted by all of us. and then again, if you choose sleep, or if you choose not to be awake, then you may not be choosing at all.

ive been waiting for this. a moment in which i sit down not thinking of a cigarrete, or a beer, or porn. a moment for my head to be blank, a sort of nirvana, if you like. silence...

follow where you lead, directly to the ground. i really could, think about it, even enjoy it. scream it's my place, where i belong, one direct hit. savor my blood like candy, just like my first love could you let me escape? let me escape

soooooooooo the alibi begins to set: the meeting with another woman. the jealousy and rage pouring over. it's a dinner date on a soso restaurant. the knife glittering. the food is really nice, would you care for a glass of wine? red. all over.

go before to the north of the fountain, there you will find my girl devil and she will take you where you want to go dancing

this distinct sound made me remember something. like when i was a kid and waited in vain for someone to enter my room and chop my head off. as i remember the feeling vaguely, and think about how paranoid i can be, i keep listening to the driping drops of water falling in the tub. tictic. 1015-saturday night, tictic, an episode of the twilight zone, tictic, my head chopped off by an axe, tictic, my mind is really disturbed.

no, I have not. there is always another road, another sign, another flip of the same face, of the same coin, or another wave to crush on. yeah, yeah... nonsense-she said as she pulled over the car and tried to make him get out. If you did not think about having kids, when are you gonna? Kids-he thought to himself-one more reason to live, to love and yet one more reason to try and kill myself, especially if they come up half as spoiled as my wife... I thought about it. Kids? NAH!

undo, redo. rewind and erease. the knowing of a late outcome can curse your preset present till you find out it may even be... ok. without waiting we stumble upon tried before answers we don't even say. and the last thing you stand on top is the facts, and the first you fall upon is the sad... ness of having lost... a chance.

yackety-yack. not good to not think this through. but whenever it calls it follows. so, it calls. and the brain starts to understand it should be following. "why don't you come by my place tonight?" of course the answer is written in the question, it's not even a question. and it follows. and we say good morning like we say goodnight, like the only thing we say.

why would she lie to me? maybe she had something to loose, some uncontrolable urge to fuck with me, in any way possible. and why the tears, and the crusts of what seemed to be regret, and the happines g0dd4mm!t after all im just a whiner and the people sorrounding me are just here to set the fun on fire. i want to sing so badly but the words escape in other ways, maybe more reliable, sarcastic out of focus and undry bring it.

Just like a dreary dream dreamt by the unlikely bum. It opened with a face, a smile and a dance. then lights turned around into night. and the face was blown like leaves, and the cats realized the dance was over. save me one last dance only in the dreams i can not escape completely from the broken pleasure of this song unsung. charming and lonely, eyes wide, and open. eyes fixed and crazed, closed soulless eyes. Hey...

i don't quite remember what she had said to me, only that i was left sitting and crying, thinking about the next day in the park, the next coffee and the next cig. she didn't leave me, but left me alone. i was confused and at the same time amazed. i felt naive and white. the next day, with the coffee and the cig in the park, she met me there with some guy, it was supposed to be her dad. he kept on telling her that they should go, she kept looking at me as if i had the answer. they finally left. i put out the cigarette in my coffee and poured down a blanket till it covered my feet, and went to sleep.

it was not until thursday that i knew what was going on. the lift seemed an unlikely solution. all things pointed to the direction i had not faced before. the sky was a little red and grey. and their bodies grew yellow and black. everything in my head was blurry, still when i spoke it was as if i was certain about anything. the fact remained that while i was alive, my friends were dead, and i was starting to think that i did them in. one by one in my strangest dreams i killed them in my sleep. and now, not knowing what to do i just lay in my tent, hoping someone reaches what's left of us. the forest was a great scenario, i could have taken a million pictures if the sight wasn't dragged to this.

jazz figurines danced over a table. salty feet stumbling at each other. fear was their rythm and awe. how was it that they found the music with so much to run from. greedy eyes watching over their shoulders, cold hands avoiding to touch, and feel, and keeping from melting into the scene. standing up reasoning there was not, filtering rays bolting keys shattered faces and growing holes. senseless beating of seconds one after the other, and then there was no sound at all. no hands, no figurines, no stares at the wall. no jazz no edge

staring over the bridge i saw a woman trying to stand up. she couldnt talk, or stay still. she had been crying about a flower. the sense of all over was around. when she finally stood up she had nowhere to go.

take me ill regret not having, not taking it all. step back when we meet i dont want to see a frown lay on the grass, bring the wine. becoming or begoing but dont stay still, tell me its you that i miss? on the shower, in a bench on the park... lay down on the grass, and bring the wine. stay right here before running away. maybe someday we'll have time to think about this.

close your eyes to what's not there. that's all she said, and it made perfect sense. then she left.

lightly stepping over the sleepyheads, i make my way through the kitchen. i cook for everyone before they rise, and then stroll along to the beach to have a nice long cold water bath. i hear some loud yelling, they're telling me to come back before everthings finished. smiling at everyone i take my plate and enjoy a late lunch, soaking wet and with my hair covering my eyes. last night was a night to remember, and though it wont come back, i know we will.

no one else sees this, this fear, this same moon that gathers. the tentacles of countless lenses. the fate that brings another day. illusions different for the same twisting eyes, searching endlessly to count the surrounding fish, to embrace sudden asphyxiation. water below my toes, and under the skin, stretching from my arms to my teeth, inaccurate, immense. choking, stripping thoughts of the palpable, of the concrete. obtusely exhaling tears into salty water, and then the improvised last goodbye. if you came to me, i would still drown.