Air near my face from a cute little overpriced flowery device. I am waiting for the future, and I know you'll be there in 10, 15 minutes tops. But all I have is now, my head in my hands, lying down on the bed and feeling strange, like I'm about to float and it's so easy and so tragic at the same time, that all I will ever feel, is this. I got this feeling once when driving with my dad, when passing a bump in the road - we were sustained in the air for a second there, and I felt like, this, is everything. You can leave, but you can't, and that's terrible, because then you have to stay on the ground and die.
If there's an elephant in your room, do not expect me to want to go in there and get my bones crushed in the name of friendship. Not all goodbyes are the same. You cannot simply copy paste nostalgia and missing-you's every time somebody leaves, even if it's under the same scorching sun, at the same bench, in the same rotten forest in the black heart of the city. Some times, you just don't feel anything.
As I type this you're probably slicing the throats of defenseless tomatoes open and tossing cucumber peels down the drain. This is what society is doing to you, me, everybody. Molding us and hurting us against our will. Within this concept, even if we win, we lose. The only way to "win" is to refuse to play. If the only reason anybody's life is worth observing is because they're playing an exceptionally good or an exceptionally bad game, then all they will ever have is fools who laugh at them and monkeys who try to match them outwardly. And you call this, a life.
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