he opened the shitty door of his shitty apartment and got in looking like shit The jacket was torn at the sleeves and the shirt underneath was torn at the chest Wet mud adorned his knees and ankles and his cheap shoes were about to fall off There was blood stuck into his thick beard and mustache and a bit around the knuckles "Happy new year!" he said as he closed the door behind him and paced from hallway to bathroom Yes, another New Year's Eve spent alone He was 46 But the punks he beat in the streets couldn't have been older than 16 The fuckers were doing what today's kids called 'pranks' and threw firecrackers at him "It's just a prank, bro!" they cried over and over again as he charged them and started swinging wildly At some point the punks had to fight back or die but…
"We all have to accept it," she said. "There's no cure against getting old." She was in her mid twenties but she had an accident that left some burnt marks across her face about that she never wanted to talk It was taboo She'd rather sit on the roof of the hospital with a coffee and talk about the glory times of before the accident when she used to dress as a nurse and infiltrate the hospital, sometimes this same hospital she now stayed in, and rob the patients "I made so much money back then," she said. "Oh, I was pretty damn sure I'll never work a day in my life. You know, people will forgive so many wrong doings, as long as they're committed by a good-looking person, like I was back then. I got away with all of it. I was in my prime. Looked like a…
it was around 3 AM no sleep no work in the morning either so she got up turned on the TV tuned it off got her pack of smokes out of the handbag lit one and smoked it as she stared at the fish tank from up close. "This is how I used to watch TV while growing up," she said to the only moving fish in the tank. "The screen didn't mess up my vision. But the things shown on it did. I've a very bleak vision of the world now." She blew the smoke against the glass The one fish that still moved around was too busy eating from the flesh of its deceased friends to notice her "You look pretty happy," she said. "Say, have you ever regretted talking someone out of suicide? Um? Well, I had. I, uh, was seeing this guy whose little daughter died…
the music
makes my lungs quake
there are people
all around
jumping up and down
shouting
singing
howling into each other's
ears
the lights blaze from above
and the sides
and even from the floor
the immense room feels
like the surface
of a star
and its inhabitants dance
and cheer
in the flames
Everyone is happy
everyone's ecstatic
jubilant
wild
high
frenzied
having the time of their
life
And I am amidst
them all
They are talking to me
Expecting replies
The party goes
on and on
and on
God... I've never felt lonelier
in my life.
Daydreaming as a profession 