I just feel so lazy, so out of blood. Listening to some late night jazz. I want your arms and legs around me. I want you so close. Only that can keep me warm and alive. Only that. Jazz is just a distraction. It cannot fill your absence. When it rains there, I want it rains here as well. I would smell and and I would smell the rain and I would poison myself. I fold my hands, stare at the bedsheet. It is never tidy. It is like me. I roll on it all day and it hasn’t complained.
This is just another movie where man’s machines go hostile. RUN RUN RUN they scream as the space around them explodes. Boring science-fiction bullshit. They make it worse by adding century old bad jokes. I mute the television. Now the movie make some sense. HA HA HA HA HA. I turn off the television. Now the movie makes complete sense. HA HA HA HA HA. I put on my earphones, play some more jazz.The Astounding Eyes of Rita. I am the last man on earth listening to jazz. Jazz is dead, its listeners asleep in their graves. It’s not my intention to keep jazz alive by listening to it. I love listening to it sometimes.
People shit on you for no reason. This isn’t a game of hearts. This is just about wiping each other’s ass, keeping each other stupid. It’s no use showing a heart. Keep it hidden. Stab it and throw away and walk quietly to your dinner table and have a warm dinner alone. Life is about that and nothing more. My blood hasn’t returned yet to my blood. I spilled it somewhere early in the morning – where, I do not remember. My bad days are coming. But soon, maybe in ten days, it will feel alright, like things were bad all along.
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