“Everyone wears a mask. Some are aware of it, some are not.”
“As long as there is food and toys for the population, change of power will never happen.”
“If you look for consistency and no contradictions, don't talk to me.”
“When you judge others, assume there is no free will. When you judge yourself, assume there is.”
“Where there is no meaning, there is hedonism.”
play.
just fucking play.
why wouldn't you?
oh, i know why.
you forgot you are going to die.
your mind is filled with shit.
aging.
ending up alone.
you are so afraid of it.
you became bitter.
dull.
just another.
same.
as others.
you stopped looking at the sky.
you stopped looking at the moon.
when was the exact moment that you died?
so many people.
so many cars.
“Once the trauma of childhood is remembered, next step is to recognize what conclusions were made by the child about themselves then. E.g. mother rejected = I am unlovable.”
And I am sitting
at this exact place in the bar,
writing this,
where we sat down
together
2 days ago.
We did not fuck.
Yet again.
The first time we tried to fuck (was exactly 3 months ago, on March 7th, just realized it),
was preceded by hours of talking,
lots of beer,
lots of white expensive wine that you had,
and lots of cocaine.
After I ate your pussy for a while,
you went on to suck
my dick.
It did not work.
Not only did it not work,
it had fucking shrunk.
Fucking cocaine.
After that
I really wanted to see you again.
Badly.
Like really badly.
To prove I am a man.
I am not a little boy.
Oh,
but you were married,
and continuously away.
You got divorced,
one month after meeting me.
10 years of marriage.
I want to believe it was
because of me.
That's how fucked up
I am.
Well,
we finally met,
twice,
after the accident.
Two days ago was the last time,
exactly here,
in this bar,
at this table,
where these words are
being written now.
I hear girls' voices.
I do not look.
I do not care.
Come on.
I just pretend.
I do care.
I want them all to
suck my dick.
Will I meet you again?
I sent you pictures of my penis.
I fucked other girls in the meantime.
Still,
salvation is yet to come.
Will it come?
Your pussy is my priest.
“emotions are fleeting. emotions are fleeting. emotions are fleeting.”