Drunkard

He was drunk and everything he could imagine was the gracious monthly periods of his melancholy beauties.

Finding

Day #345, 5:45 AM.
I hate repeating words, I really do. I want to find her again. I know I have her, I will always have her in my mind. She will always be the desperate intellectual. Middle class, hard to impres, quite moody. The kind that is forever dead and lovely. But I want to find her again, you see? There is a crucial difference between finding and knowing. When I was younger, I was told by the old man that the moment I meet someone should be a work of art. It is the moment I will discover everything. Every fucking piece that humanity has lost and repressed inside the broken clock that is still ticking.
Did I say ticking? Yes I did. Your clock is ticking if you listen close enough. Seven times a day to be exact. Quite slow, you might tell yourself. But it is what keeps you alive to see that moment.
The first time you meet someone should be a work of art. It does not matter when or how. You make it into one. Because a moment later she is gone. She is a part of you that will never be found again. She will be lost till the moment you meet again. As if you have never met before. Say hello, like you have done thousands of times before. Have you said a real hello in your life? Introduce yourself. You know she has made up everything. Her every single smile is a political kitsch. Smile back, laugh. I love your hysterical laughs. You have to dream again. You know it is the time to dream again. Look at her, into her eyes. Tell her you feel you have lost her ages ago in that minefield. Tell her you are trying to put this puzzle together, and she is the part you had lost. The part you will find, and the part you will lose again. I hate repeating words. I really do. I have been always told that I should not repeat my words.
But I want to tell you again, the moment you meet her should be a work of art.

Photo by Kitsumumma

Letter from F.

I get things done. cheaply. I help friends in need just like you. I cry, sometimes. I am not the one that is giving you advices. Cause I am just like you, but since you are not physically me. I can see and say who you are. The same way you see me and say who I am. It hurts. It's painful. It's the loneliness in a conversation. The rain when you talk to the phone. The fucking answering machine when she does not pick up, but mostly it is you trying to make sense of life. You want it to make it melancholic? it will be. You want it to make it sexual? it will be. You want it to make it meaningful for others? it will be. It's just a matter of choice. It should not be anything else.

Use your fear as a fuel, not as an excuse.

Photo by Eva Truffaut

Closer #2

Dan: Where is Anna?
Larry: I met her, at a nightclub.
[silence]
Larry: Yes, I saw her naked. No, I did not fuck her.
Dan: I want Anna back.
Larry: She's made her choice.
Dan: I owe you an apology. I fell in love with her. My intention was not to make you suffer.
Larry: So where's the apology? Ya cunt.
Dan: I apologize. If you love her you'll let her go so she can be happy.
Larry: She doesn't want to be happy.
Dan: Everybody wants to be happy.
Larry: Depressives don't. They want to be unhappy to confirm they're depressed. If they were happy they couldn't be depressed anymore. They'd have to go out into the world and live. Which can be depressing.
Larry: Dan, I lied to you. I did fuck Alice. Sorry for telling you. I'm just not big enough to forgive you, Buster.
Dan: You've ruined my life.
Larry: You'll get over it.

Closer

- I need the truth, cos without it we are animals, trust me.
-What's so great about the truth? Try lying for a change, it's the currency of the world.
-Deception is brutal, I'm not pretending otherwise.
-How? How does it work? How do you do this to someone?
[silence]
-Not good enough!
- I am in love with her.
- Boo hoo, So am I.
-You think love is simple. You think the heart is like a diagram.
-Have you ever seen a human heart? It looks like a fist, wrapped in blood! Go fuck yourself! You writer! You liar!

Nostalgia Series

Fear and Loathing

-I love her, I don't know what to do.
-Listen! When someone fights dirty, you beat the shit out of them, you understand?
- Is that a result of your Kierkegaardian philosophy?
- It's way worse, I learned this through time. Through life.

We have to go.

Are you awake?
- Yes. Are you fine?
- I had a nightmare...I was in my room...surrounded with eyes. Thousands of them. I was looking for you. You were lying next to me.
- You tried to touch me. But I was not there.
- Yes.
- I remember that.
- What?
- It was not a nightmare. This is a nightmare. I won't remember it when I wake up.
- Don't cry.
- No, I want to cry.
- I love you.
- The way you want to love me is against the law.
- I don't care.
- fuck me.
- I can't. I can't.
- They will find us. I have to hide you. These stars are spies. Your lips. Your skies.
- Quit it. I beg you.
- Kiss me, We have to go.
- We are killing time. I know we are not going to live another day. I know everything will be over. But please...I have to tell you something...I...long to....
- Wait. Listen to this.
[ some one is knocking at the door. He has a thick, deep voice]: We have to go.