My Crazy Life
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Never had an evening begun so badly, and ended so well.
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If Snookie could publish a novel I so can #Mantra
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“For it was Saturday night, the best and bingiest glad-time of the week, one of the fifty-two holidays in the slow-turning Big Wheel of the year, a violent preamble to a prostrate Sabbath. Piled up passions were exploded on Saturday night, and the effect of a week’s monotonous graft in the factory was swilled out of your system in a burst of goodwill. You followed the motto of ‘be drunk and be happy,’ kept your crafty arms around female waists, and felt the beer going beneficially down into the elastic capacity of your guts.” — ― Alan Sillitoe, Saturday Night and Sunday Morning -
Lovers in a Dangerous Time
They were walking down the street.. you would think that it was just one person.. a copy..a body divided into two equal parts.. the same gestures..walk…signs..glee in the eyes..two hearts beating as one.. holding hands…grocery bags in the other hands.. or was it a messenger bag filled with bags…just a glimpse..they crossed the streets…dress and smart suit..a warm day in April…using the cross-walk …cars stopped.. a guy singing some country song on the radio.. something about holding hands…yours in mine on a fine summer something…
They crossed…looked at each other…smiled…a genuine smile..a smile that commands a stare..that shouts I am here..look at me you single person… a smile that says that they are lucky…would it last forever asks the serpent in the heart of the single man ?
They sat on the brick stairs…a brick lane.. just sitting there.. both of them…smiling..speaking a foreign language…
The bus came…she stood up…he kissed her forehead…she smiled…went up the 2 steps of the bus..swiped her card…sat on a seat behind the driver…waved goodbye and vanished from the scene with her grocery into somewhere…your guess is as good as mine.
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The Party
The party was the perfect orgy of suppressed emotions.
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He was in love with her, because to him she was the only thing that was real.
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Soul Paralysis
There is nothing like a long hot kiss to paralyse your soul
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3DS
Here I am staring into the space listening into notes, played on a battered Roland in a smoky bar in an alley. Pure sadness floating around me at that moment in time. A sadness that envelopes you in deep bleak thoughts of demise, depression and diseases. A shroud in noir.. a dakar noir.. an African noir; a black hole from a tune.
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Horror of death
For a second there , she made him forget the horror of death. He is an embalmer and she is his perfect victim.
