Closing down

This blog, as of now, is closed!

sporadics

my mind is like a golden bucket
filled with lovely thoughts like fuck it!

wear those gloves i threw away
fit you better, but should they?

read my journals and my letters
skin my wings of useless feathers.

break them, hit me, barely still
i renounce my all, my will.

i bought a book

it's The Melancholy Death of Oyster Boy And Other Stories by tim burton.
don't read a review of it, read it.

and i gracefully fade into non existence

my room

i have a house of sticks, at best
it's not a home, nor haven, nor a nest.
i can't relax, enjoy my sleep
unless a headstone branded:RIP
i have a room which isn't mine
a wooden clock that tells no time
enormous mirrors starring back
a virtue counter showing: lack(of)
a single window and no light
a single curtain shades the night
the bed's so low it seems to sink
the room's so bleak, you'll think i drink
but i do not!.. repeat, do not!
nor shall i ever..unless hot.
allow, oh please, a famous quote:
-yet everyone reads what i wrote,
i feel a certain disbelief
that somehow i'm a captured thief
and here, before an ad-hoc judge and jury
who can't object to rule with fury
my once and only small mistake
was to consider you my friend, you fake!
now leave.

yes, but when?

i have started a countdown. as i have already stated, my idea of most things is not as your idea of the same things. mine is not better, or easier, or attainable. it's just mine. i am definitely, if i get a place of my own, a better job or at least a more responsible attitude , going to adopt a kid. boy, girl, doesn't matter. it has a lot to do with a lot. most importantly, i am adamant on this. time will tell if i can manage.

the little man knows all

fired, hired, tired, wired.
should, could, would, but for the mood.
here, near, beer...dear.
mass, lass, ass, thanks but pass.
strong, long, wrong song.
sire, higher, liar-liar.
eloquent, competent, insolent, malevolent.
Miss, miss, diss, piss.
duck, suck, fuck , luck.
mess, bless, yes, chess.