of a saner
Sometimes, often actually, people ask me how I’m doing. My answer is always: fine, I’m doing fine. What else should I answer? I’m fine. I have my “moments”, when I feel lost, insecure. When I feel that I don’t belong, that I’m a total failure. When my teenage-romantic-brain takes over my rational-be-adult one. When the flow of information coming from all over the world makes me sick, sad… When, when, when… At the end I look back, look at the things I’ve done and realise that, well, I haven’t done too bad so far. I’ve been lucky, very lucky. A friend of mine, 25 years ago, called me a cat. She said to me: “what ever you do, what ever is happening to you, you always land on your feet”. True, very true indeed. I loved, I love and I am loved. Nothing else really matters.
Some may say that I meant “week-end”, nope I’m actually saying “weak end”. Turning my thoughts into something positively positive, or not. I’m not even sure myself. Some days ago I posted the following update on my FB page: “I want to make a book, to design a book. A book about absurdity, a book that no one will read, no one would care about. A tribute to ignorance, a tribute to selfishness and money. A tribute to self-importance, arrogance and (why not) sex. Something human.”
Well I would love to be able to do it, for real. Question of ethic, rights and, nevertheless, a question connected to a complete lack of trust and hope regarding a society that instead of believing in goods rather reward mediocrity, laziness, hypocrisy and stupidity. I’m not better, well,… actually (even though I may sound arrogant), yes I am better. Not much but at least I fucking care and believe that there is no result without passion, no life without passion. Why the fuck am I writing this on a Sunday at 17:30? I’m not sure, but I can’t help thinking about something Charles Bukowski said:
“How in the hell could a man enjoy being awakened at 8:30 a.m. by an alarm clock, leap out of bed, dress, force-feed, shit, piss, brush teeth and hair, and fight traffic to get to a place where essentially you made lots of money for somebody else and were asked to be grateful for the opportunity to do so? ”Promise, I’ll do better next time.
It’s more or
less like a
Unusual, unsurprising, unexpected, unwanted, unloved, undeserved, uncured, unaligned, unanimous, unashamed, unbalance, unclear, unwounded, unwritten, unworldly, unripped, unroofed, unscaled, unsaying, … I will, soon or later, die. I’m thinking about it every day, been doing so for the past two years. Not that I’m afraid. It just that I’d rather not die yet. But I’m not the one to decide, I’m not the one, not at all. It’s more or less like a genetic-Russian-roulette. Some of us are supposed to leave earlier than others. That’s the way. What can I do? Not much actually. I can’t fight life. But I still can be myself. It may sound silly, stupid. A big fucking cliché, I know, but… what’s the point, where’s the pleasure if I follow the rules? I’m not free, none of us are, but at least I’m still able to say what ever I feel like saying. And I’m planning to keep doing it till I die.
I never found out the time to properly put some words on my thoughts even though it has been very clear in my head, something that has been spinning around: I want to die alive.
Yes, I do want to die alive. I want to die knowing that I can walk, see, smell and touch. I want to die being fully functioning, body and brain. I want to be able to die knowing that I can still embrace doing what I want without any external help and support. I want to die free. Free to move, to feel, to be… Is it too much to ask? Should I prepare myself to get forced to survive even though my brain ain’t responding anymore because in our society we don’t have the right to choose to die. Forced to survive because death is still one of the biggest taboo in are so called “civilised system”.
to the going spend
ain ago spent
week the that that you to You
here back have friends
it in cost what stores invited of of *****
that what fair spend going expensive
you to You
days to ain gifts
had packed have friends