a couple of phrases to check the similarity of the primitive mood. Away with the superfluous, yesterday’s things… Pushing with his legs, tearing, pushing out, discouraged on one leg by jumping, he snaps, called a taxi, throwing the remains of the upper one out the door, leaving no chance for a possible morning. Wash up. Wash it out of memory. Clean. Throwing into the drum at maximum bed temperatures. Deleting vulgar messengers, sending numbers to the trash can of your own dirt. Under a scorching shower – burn out memories. The inner whore needed gray emotions so much. Tired. Sleeping. Chained. Like a hackneyed motif with verses on repeat – for deeper penetration. Only after watching more than a dozen on the conveyor belt, you begin to notice similarities in actions, analogies of generosity, repetitions in attention, partly from upbringing, but not a fact. Bar. Wound up. They click the buttons of the remote control, more or less suitable, without thinking, as soon as the puzzles do not match, they ruthlessly switch their attention to the next one. Forgetting completely about what was carried out, gifted, reset and crossed out. The presence of an internal zoo, characters living in internal closets, cannot stand it. Realizing this, carefully walking in the dark. Fears of becoming a white crow. They are branded with templates, proclaiming convenient theses about the integrity of perception, moods, the sequence of desires, and goals. Shameless books allow you to turn on your head. Plunging a little deeper into Swiss studies, consistently discarding the stupid tinsel of public judgments, gluing fragments together, revealing abandoned, trampled works of manyyears of research. Wonderful, without condemnation. With confirmation of the presence in each of them of at least seven internal, diverse characters, and even more so with different views, monologues, actions. Surfing the waves of universal values in this segment, not shining on the territory legitimized by the content of society. Secretly walking the hungry, in inner closets on chains, so as not to fly off gears completely. Millions let out the dust of politeness, care, caresses and other tenderness… Undeniable, and it is present inside, but not 24/7. In moments they get used to it, feed on, are selfish in scooping it out, leaving the breathless from the latter to gain psychorights, to swallow. Driving themselves into a corner of dullness in an attempt to please, to avoid aggression, quietly howling alone from self-pity, fatigue. Sometimes tearing their hair out in hysterics. Climbing under a biting icy shower out of despair, shuddering. Swallowing tons of ice cream, cold sweet. Sticking in silence into the screen, staring a thousand times earlier than the revision. Throwing sedative capsules into myself, I drink again and forget among the duvets with pampered pillows.
Dawn is always inevitable. Cynic, without politeness. Pore. Suit, heels, bright lipstick, espresso, keys to almost five hundred horses with a bell. Gathered for the next call, a series of meetings, forcing the thousandth mechanism to act, create, implement, sell, master, distribute, report, pamper itself.
Slammed. “And I have different ones inside? But still not for everyone, it is difficult. Or maybe you’re right, one of them is hungry for you, eager to give up everything and take tickets to you herself. The rest restrain, break, slap on the cheeks, shackle. As before, here are among those with whom it is dull and sick from the repetition of days, conveyor nights. Okay. Everything is moving in its own course. How are you? Mood? Do you miss me? True, I missed it. Fly in. I want to hug, kissing the unshaven. I’ll treat you to tuna sashimi. We will read, throwing our legs over each other. Chatting incessantly in the evenings, and at dawn for a run on the gold of the sand spit, barefoot, smiling, flirting with the ocean, urging your four-legged blond. To fall asleep together is happiness, embracing, tired of a sunny day.”
Spring
The screen ripples all over the wall with silver, I’m tired of flipping through it. The book is discarded, the corners of single selected pages are bent, for a possible dubious return. The emptiness of a glass of velvety-burgundy wine to relieve a series of painful pains. The numbers of the present are on pause, not accumulated enough, do not pull into the current one. Going through and dialing the numbers of the past with their fingertips, they give off silence, vacuum, rejecting the cat’s mood of purring. Reading emotions from a distance with your nose. Lack of a degree of boredom or the presence of alternatives, present nearby, at the moment. A ridiculous lack of reciprocal attention, the offer of the game of this evening has been reset, for the next one I am not interested. The wind bursts into the open in search of profit, rages, sniffs, smells of coolness and freshness, quickly gets bored, curls up, slams shut on its own. The body is disobedient. He likes to be capricious, under exorbitant loads he does not always withstand. He complains, whines at first, and then falls off piece by piece. The injections are burning. The doctors in white are filled with fears. Complete indifference to oaths of help is washed away by the routine of a series of crumbling ones, the worries of everyday life are clogged, and energy is not replenished, as before. Not everyone, there are white ones… In his arms from the bed, creaking his roots. So it has already been, and the current patience will pass. Having spoiled it in this way, the shell gets used to tenderness. Taking liberties, he can talk about fatigue. Swallowing white pills with squeezes, we get rid of external pain, leaving the remnants of the internal pain. Hush, quieter, the echoes of excessive loads give harsh consequences. Everything will pass. A deep sleep. Breaks in awakening are painful, any movement reeks of moans. The environment is often short, demanding an immediate reward for service. Orders and demand for moments, and then fall into depression without constancy and certainty. Without exception, cynically and without modesty, independently praising their own missing qualities, hoping for a check accidentally dropped for them. Self-pity – don’t make me laugh. The cry is silent, gnashing from its own pain, drowned out by the parallel of sounds with pleasures. Feeling the unhurried steps of the keykeeper, the servant of the order, the closet, with various characters. Amazing intolerance, breaking the shackles of chains, tearing the bolts of the doors from their hinges with roots, released. In such holes, we walk exclusively predatory, digging in with our lips and teeth. He will send it. He is mad. Requirements of food, speed. Subordination. Brushing aside curtseys, pounce to satisfy hunger. Having had his fill. Switches are triggered, releasing a balanced calm. There are no quick prizes from the plan, there is not enough breath for a long one. The night is mocking, endless, piercing the physical with sharp pain. Terribly long, dark. The outer shell is merciless, constantly throwing introductions. The wall clock strikes, giving off a sledgehammer inside. Deep midnight, not enough liquid, pink villi contribute to transparently tasteless swallowing with greed. Pass. Spring flirts, indulges. Patience.
Slammed. “Bring the bill, please. Whiskey, chocolate and the rest – count. Announced, it’s time. Flight. Features of intolerance to vulgarity. Sleepy. How are you? It hurts? And I missed you. I feel our rope at a distance. I want to laugh. Take care of you. I’m used to it. Appearance is so unimportant when you find your own. Kiss, climbing up, feel small. Joke. Taking away pain, putting your palms to it. Order sweets, coffee with Colombian sweets. Looking into your turquoise eyes, reading without words special desires. I missed you so much…”
Lung
Early morning. Loads with your own weight. Cool shower. A day off, given to lace. Sleepy. The ability to allow yourself not to… consonant with everything, but with its own waywardness, but similar in puzzles. There is one who is disheveled after sleep, looking out from under it, already smiling. Sings in a whisper, caresses with the tips. A record with French love refrains, penetrates slowly, calms down. A funny ability to laugh inappropriately. With jokes for a thousand, often unconsciously, just to please you. Colombian drinks are filled, strewn with cakes with hot bitter chocolate. Embraces of meetings, squeezed. Words, words in streams. Soulful, penetrating. Eyes insatiable, intertwined with eyelashes. Boring of the fingertips, especially the little fingers are hungry, intertwined with tenderness. Curling in streams, drops on the palms. Today they are stuffy, they require those special ones to satisfy their hunger. Satisfied with what has been said, heard, saturated to the brim. The physics of bodies invigorates, squeezing to the brim, as if from a metal tube, all the energy. Caress, changing masks, sorting out the situation. The glitter
