Tomic Riter

Tag: contemporary

  • The rough start.

    The rough start.

    Almost one month into the year and I can already feel myself failing at my commitments to myself. The beginning has been very rough and quite taxing. I’m slumping. Maybe I should go to the altar and confess all my sins even though it won’t change a thing. Maybe I should just stay quiet and keep doing my thing. Maybe I should run away from everything like the coward that I am. Maybe there’s a god for each one of us. Maybe it’s time to hit the bottom and begin from there anew.

    – Tomic. All rights reserved.

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  • How hard is it really.

    How hard is it really.

    How hard is it to make two people talk. How hard could it be. How hard could the hardest of our problems really be. Do they have anything in them? Or maybe we just couldn’t talk about them. Why burden somebody with the weight of our own problems. Imagine a big circle, and anybody could come there and sit inside the circle and just talk about their problems. Sometimes, talking about the problems aloud helps to understand them in a better way. And without understanding our problems, how can solutions be found.

    – Tomic. All rights reserved.

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  • Rain down.

    Rain down.

    I would like to remind you little bit of what I am. What am I. Let’s leave the question for a moment. Let’s focus on something else. On what? Let’s stop focusing on anything for a while. Let’s sit quietly for a while. Eyes closed. Breathing as normally as you can. Can you hear the faint noise of fresh rain? I can. The raindrops are falling and falling and falling, probably wetting everything. I want to walk out of my room and see. I refuse to walk out. I walk out. The rain has stopped now. I walk downstairs, stand there, watch the floor, now wet, reflecting bar lights. I look around. Drunkards everywhere getting in getting out. I scratch my beard and walk back upstairs and into my room.

    – Tomic. All rights reserved.

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  • One from my goddamned desk.

    This one is a quick post from my mobile. That is something I never do. So if you’re reading on laptop or PC, apologies if it doesn’t look good. Also, about that, I do not give a shit. Ha ha ha.

    It’s been raining heavily since this morning. No electricity. No mobile connectivity. It all looks so bad when I look out the window. So bad and so wet and so dirty. That’s why I hate rain. It brings in more dirt than it washes away. At least that has been the case with me. Always. It would have looked better had I been on a holiday. But I am not.

    – Tomic Riter. All rights reserved.

  • Out for too long.

    basking in 11:47 sun
Liszt crazy on his piano
my life is a poorly crafter art film
besides, no audience
Liszt has gone to vomit
soon, clouds gather and strike the birds down
my mind a sea of toilet water
in my garden, a peacock getting fucked 
by the neighbour's dog
a cat sleeping through the day's uneventfulness
I have been out in the sun for far too long.

Copyright © Tomic Riter. All rights reserved.

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  • After a noise day.

    Hopefully, it won’t rain today. Dinner has been served earlier than usual, only I haven’t eaten yet. Often, my hunger isn’t for food. I will see later.

    Met this character today. He is one of those who know nothing but shout a lot in everything. That’s how people like him want to hide their incompetence. They think that by being loud while talking, no one will question their actions and no one will resist them in any way. Being loud doesn’t mean being right. I think somebody who is right, he won’t necessarily have to be loud. He only has to be clear, and his voice will reach wherever it intends to reach. People like that character are almost everywhere. About them, nothing can be done.

    A pleasant weather this evening. I’ll probably talk a walk on the roof, probably smoke, probably drink a can of beer. Or maybe I’ll just sit here and listen to jazz and read a little. Life is revealed only when it’s lived. A life not lived, well, it culminates in darkness all the same. And whether it’s lived or not lived, it’s quite ordinary.

    Copyright © Tomic Riter. All rights reserved.

  • Work work work.

    Work work work work work work all week all day until evening. At night, it just rains and rains. It rains a lot. Too much rain to go anywhere or do anything other than sit in chair, drink coffee, smoke cigarette, drink beer, listen to music, read a little, think about the unfinished story, think about having no time. No time at all. Whatever the little time I get is spent getting drunk. But look at the irony. The drink is spent but I am still going on. How much can a man really take. A lot, I guess. A lot. A man can take a lot until he realizes there’s no point in taking anymore. As I write, it keeps raining, the roads wash anew, the potholes fill to their necks, snakes run out in the garden, moths circle around the lamp glowing in my porch, lizards run away, garbage in my kitchen rots, cigarette waits for the spark, old wounds run dry as the body waits for new.

    Copyright © Tomic Riter. All rights reserved.

  • I feel alright.

    Eating breakfast and typing shit again. Went out to buy breakfast a while ago. These days, I myself do not do much cooking. Discovered a good small joint not far from here that makes really delicious breakfasts and meals. I just go there and buy and bring food home and eat. Saves my time. Gives me more time to read and write, especially write. I am looking forward to publishing at least two more books this year. One is already published – Red Room Bar – a collection of 50 poems written in and around bars over the course of six years. The paperback version of the same should be made available in 2-3 days. Submitted the manuscript of the same only yesterday night at around 3 A.M. It became a long night. Fell asleep some time after 4. Wake up at 8:30 to the usual morning noises of birds and people and garbage truck. Missed the garbage truck again and now, the garbage will stay here for another week. Shit. SHIT!

    What are the odds of this being a simulation – my life and everything happening in it? I think zero. This life is as real as a life can be. Took so much shit today morning, my stomach sank a mile. Had to run out for breakfast at once. Crazy. And the day has barely begun. If I sit down and think about what all happened since the time I woke up, I realize that a lot has already happened. A LOT! Me waking up to the nauseating smell of garbage everywhere in my home, the garbage truck getting missed, me taking so much shit, me running out for breakfast, me thinking about paying all my dues to all the people I owe, me thinking about the paperback version of my book finally going live, me thinking about finishing my book of short stories, me taking out an apple and an orange, instead of a beer, from my fridge and placing them on my table, me checking my earnings so far from my books and realizing there’s a long way to go, me thinking about the Independence Day in America, and how silly the idea of independence day really is. It doesn’t matter what country we talk about, the idea is always so silly.

    Got a big stack of books waiting to be read – Murakami, Kafka, Camus, Celine. A lot of writing to be done. Heading to it straightaway. Have a good time.

    Copyright © Tomic Riter. All rights reserved.

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  • Tomorrow is just another day.

    No idea what my landlord is doing in the garden at 8 at night because at 8 at night, really nothing is visible here. By 8 at night, it gets really dark, so dark you can’t see even your own dick were you standing in the garden. Ding Dong. The old woman has arrived with my parcel. I throw the parcel away on sofa and head back to my bedroom and sit in my chair. It is Friday and I am thinking about Saturday already. It is Friday and Friday can go to hell as well. All days are the same and I am dead. Thinking about opening the beer bottle. Tomorrow is just another day and the landlord will be back in the garden with or without his dick, doing some shit around just like he did today.

    Copyright © Tomic Riter. All rights reserved.

    CLICK HERE TO VISIT MY AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE AND PURCHASE MY BOOKS

  • Dire Straits playing.

    Dire Straits playing. Walked downstairs with an empty can of beer. Sat in my chair. Dire Straits playing. All the booze gone. All the evening almost gone. Feels too hot in this t-shirt. An urge to remove it and sit naked under the fan and feel an erection. Looking at the empty beer can on my table, Dire Straits playing. It’s dire times and Dire Straits is playing. The problem with being less foolish than the ones around you is that sooner or later, you would have to carry a lot of shit that you’re not supposed to carry. The problem is people doing favors to you. The problem is you getting crushed under the burden of those favors. Better to stab everyone from the front, right in their ribs or better, right in their foreheads, than take shit from anybody. A long pause. A long long pause. Dire Straits is gone. What the hell is this playing on my speakers? No idea. I keep listening anyways. Maybe it will turn out to be something good, and if it does not, then so what. A bad song cannot bring this world to it end. Or can it?

    Copyright  © Tomic Riter. All rights reserved.