Yes, there's intimacy
and then there's the times you
get naked and drunk
and cuddle in bed
and tell each other things you'd never
tell sober
“Last time I got so drunk,” she
said, “I got my hands on
a poster with
a missing child and called the
number
and got under the blanket with
the phone,
started crying and said,
'Daddy, daddy, I miss youuu!”
It fucked up the guy who answered
the phone but... my crying
was genuine.
I really felt everything I've said.”
He just laughed
and hugged
her tighter
There would be no closer intimacy
than this
the door opened suddenly and it hit the poor dog who scowled and got out of the way before the woman entered "Oh, for fuck's sake!” she shouted Her hands were busy with shopping bags. They looked heavy and she looked tired and quite pissed and grew even more pissed when she laid eyes on her husband, in the living room, sprawled on the couch, buried under cigarette ashes and empty beer cans The house smelled of singed hairs from his knuckles and arms. Even burnt skin and clothes The small holes in his shorts looked like crawling cockroaches fighting over the crumbs in his lap He greeted his wife with a deep belching sound and closed his eyes "What the hell you doing?” she yelled, loud enough to make him open his eyes "Dying,” he said "What?” "Dying.” "Listen here, you piece of shit, I left the house hours…
it was darkening outside as he opened the beer and threw his old body on the rocking chair There was no TV in his house "It shows people,” he'd said. "An' I can't stand them.” He poured the beer into a glass and started rocking back and forth into his chair, looking at nothing and enjoying it When it was completely dark, the black cat came into the house through the hole in the broken window a limp gray fish big as a fallen leaf glistened in its mouth, reflecting the full moon outside "Welcome back,” he said to the cat as it laid the fish on the carpet near his feet and rolled on its back, exposing its belly He took the fish and smelled it and tossed it into the beer and shook the glass "Thank you,” he said. "That's enough protein for today.” He leaned forward in…
the days follow each other like ants towards a dead thing and after enough of them pass by, you finally realize you are that dead thing And that's supposed to be alright. After all, no one is excused from this All we can do is make the journey pleasant However, when the alarm wakes you up at 6:30 in the morning, announcing that there's yet another day in which you'll have to attend your duties of slaving away for others to get rich, when you're slipping into the other half of your life not bringing along any fulfilled dreams despite trying again and again... Another day in which you'll be assaulted by questions like, "Hey, so when are you going to get married?" "Have you even someone to marry?" "Why don't you get another job. Aren't you a bit too old for this one?" "How much do they pay you?"…
Daydreaming as a profession 