Dialogues with the Self

Isolated, marooned, despondent, me a piece of shit. The world and its wishes smile bitterly at me. I sink in my wretched abyss disappointed. Am I schmuck of disaster, noble of countless mishaps? Forge my soul in the shit of hell. I feel like committing suicide. I see Camus waving at me and saying things will be alright. Is it my delusion or is it real? Sex is a dead prison.  When can I have the poetry of lyrical intimacy? When will sex become a poem of lyrical beauty? When will a woman become warm hearted and tender to me? When will she make me open to her orifices? Angst plagues my soul like a psychopath.My ego is so deflated. I am locked up in the asylum of defeatism.Why did you die for my sins? I need to taste the relish of Epicureanism. Why do you close all doors for me? I am carrying the cross of a wretched life. Sometimes I wish to be shed of life and be a still-life statue. Devil, you are a mocking penis. Why can’t covetousness be a virtue? The world of values is a carnival. When will the rites of ecstasy shed her lady luck on me? Me a being? Amazing! Metaphysics is a pile of muddy water. Transcendence is a hyperbolic cunt. Dissolve the consciousness that is in my body. Sodomize it with a poem of beauty. Bitch wife, I have so much love to give and yet you don’t want an iota of it. Bitch wife, you have made me sick in the mind. My soul is a whimsical butterfly. Eros is tranquilized death. Bitch wife, all I want is a caress, a kiss, a hug and you fucking bitch you deny it. I have stopped reading astrology. Karma is warped in the neurons of an angstual plague. You fucker be kind to yourself. Give your heart the freedom to love. Don’t blow your soul to smithereens of existential shit. Nirvana, I have found you perched on wings. When the present is bleak, how can I anticipate a bright future? What a joy can sex bring? I long for you darling. Yet you are so far away. When can we make love like the old times? Passion is the ocean of ecstasy. When can I resurrect my body with sex?  If I was in your place, I would have been tempted by the devil. My wife is a slut of boredom. Every day the bitch kneels and cries before you. God you have denied me so much in life.

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