31st of July (a silent lonely spot where summer´s nights are cold)

   A forgotten spot under the starry laughing sky, where summer´s nights are cold and lonely. A cigarette to inspire your tired crowded mind,comfortably numbed in this perfect glimpse of silence.  Nothing seems right but you neither can tell everything´s wrong. It´s no time for  philosophical existential ,almost always rhetorical , questions . Now ,just resumes to a freedom of thought ...a big pile of shit waiting to be dosed? under  the carpet. But you are happy because is your pile of shit and mayhem . And this is your fucking cigarette that struggles in non-senseless fight with the muses. ..as you could conquer those sick heartless whores !! 

    What  really makes me laugh is your eagerness in some silly clichés  as the sick unconscious obsession to yell " run ,Forest , run !" every time you see someone running. It´s an unconscious ,annoying, tic that wraps your head in doubts in frustration.  Even when surrounded by people ,if your eyes catch someone running the scream of " run ,Forest, run!!"would  burst  the silence of your mind. And even those times you could not help yourself in whispering low "run, Forest , run. 

You end up worrying why this eager need: maybe because Forest Gump is a 90´s classic and 90´s bring you good memories . Or maybe because you watched that movie more than a dozen of times and it´s not even your favourite movie. It could be because "Forest Gump" was a little book you once bought in order to practice reading and comprehension ,  and you even used that book to teach a better understanding in a funny easy way. Certainly it is something that marked a cross on your tiny head. And nevertheless ...you will always whisper it,down low, when you´ll pass someone running. It is in our nature; we are running with every dawn , we are running from anything could make us feel, we are running from the routine ...we are trying our guts out to keep running in hope to find something to stop us running.

    You might not find peace for your thoughtless hopeless words, you might not find the inner peace you so struggle and cry to find...but you swear yourself you will put your shit together and grow a pair to release yourself from the  sorrow and pain´s claws. You swear you´ll never ever doubt yourself...and we both laugh because we are both aware that is a fucking lie.  You might get hurt again and again...but it´s better to burn out than to fade away. And before you die you want to taste the love , to embrace the hate in tomorrow´s light , to cherish the loneliness in company. So ,you will stand the storm, you will ride the sandworm of  doubts and fears and you will fight the hideous voices in your head. You will stop repeating yourself , you will stop waiting for miracles of love. You will take every breath in , you will cry your heart out loud and you will storm in bursts of anger ; but everything will shape to  your design and will carry your  signature. It will be your worthless piece of screw. We  might be some entirely bonkers , some dancing crap , giggling and singing like Rumpelstinskin in the dark starry nights; we might be the worst you could ever bump into; we will be and shall be it .