Stop

And then you wake up

and the newspapers show the same bloody photographs

like yesterday

and the day before 

and the day before.

And then you dress up for work

and you do the same senseless things

like yesterday

and the day before 

and the day before.

And then you talk to people

and they complain and babble

about the photographs in the newspapers

and the weather

and the neighbour

and the traffic jam

and their new diet

and whatever bullshit they remember

to kill the silence between

us useless humans

who don't remember what really matters

and just run around wasting

wasting time and energy

running to achieve goals

we don't even remember

for no reason at all.

And then you wish

you would stop waking up.  

Companions

This one reminds me of the day I fell off the stairs and my knee started bleeding and I cried and sobbed in my mom's arms. Our house smelled of chocolate pudding.

The other one reminds me of my job as counter-hand in Brisbane, where I had to use the slicer to slice some onions for the delicious focaccias we sold in the deli store. I cut my forefinger and Melissa, the manager, made a fuzz. My finger tasted of onions and iron.

These others remind me of the razor blade that I used to cut in my arms and see the blood run down my hands to relieve the pain I felt and did not understand.  My bed room was yellow and green and smelled of weed.

These scars I like best. 

Zmeks | via Tumblr

People

This world could be so wonderful

if there were no people.