ma3zooz

Snakes slither past my feet. Unworthy of betrayal. A light unravels from my crown into a twisting spiral. Such strange dreams we see. I spend my time in solitude; no one told me thoughts are dangerous. I should’ve known. A carpet of dust spread over tabletops and heaps of virgin books. Socks worn out from overuse and blackened on both sides. The only activity is the smoky, stuffy air. Its stifling at first, but you get used to it quickly. Despite everything, the bathroom sparkles clean, yet some organism has rooted itself onto the dishes in the kitchen. All the grapes come off their vines with the same pressure. The same procrastinating

Long overdue. This entry. Even though I write it now with a faint memory of it and a smile. Lily allen. What was it? God knows, but it was beautiful. A room. I’m not alone. There are people. The smoke rises up the room and out the balcony. Drifting away and taking me with it. The same as the feeling of being suspended in mid-air. Like when the car goes too fast down a bridge. A tingly, tickly feeling that I can’t locate. I always thought it was the groin but it’s the whole abdomen. It pulsates with pleasure. Not pulsates, more like moves, sways like the tide. Have you ever wondered what it would feel like to be a grain of sand

this was the right time to call u...when I'm lsning to music and the screen blares at me like some scorching flames of sunbursts and spirals of hydrogen explosions and gamma rays. the time when the music moves so coherently like the waves dance and flutter at the sandy shores of lake titicaca, gliding across crystalline aqueous surfaces of circular electron repulsions, foaming reverberessly like sliding plates of mercury molecules. You might wonder at my sanity.. I will tell you it is the result of emanating waves of hormones and cannabinoids in the region of my brain, the one that's always colored in green, rippling across my whole body, wit

It's been around fifty years now. It was unbearable before, but it's true that once new things become old, the tolerance goes up. He tried to get out of bed. Bed! What bed? A straw mattress with old clothes for a blanket is barely a bed. But bed it is for him now. He would hear from his father about days in which it was okay not to wear black. It was black when he was born. His parents' marriage looked like a funeral and his birth looked even gloomier. He felt like his birth was celebrated at the bottom of a dusty vase. Black, it was the new white; barely new for him. He watched the sun rise. Finally, it was time. His family and everybody in

He looked at his watch. Late again. Open door. Close. What should he do. When he sees her he'll give her a hug. Orange, clover, cinnamon. She gave him that look again. He answers back before she could ask. "don't worry I have one now". He lied. It was like second nature to him. Practice. Play out the scenario. Lie. She hugged him back. "who is she?" "No one you know, some girl". Catch me. Call me a liar. But she only looked on with disappointment. He expected it. He'd make her ask him. He played jokes on her. Provoked her. But she's not biting. Simple looks of disappointment. "I started drinking". Disappointment only. No questions. Ask me! W

I sit in bed, replaying the movie in my head for the tenth time. Where did I go wrong? "Hey we might be going to this café close by tomorrow. You want to come?" "Sure, what's your number?" I took it down anxious and excited about the new friends I made. Next day. I fix myself, too orange, too blue, perfect outfit, nice perfume. All goes well, I make a good impression. They call me the next day, next weeks, all went well, I can finally show myself. I fight with a friend, neglected I try to excuse it. I'm back in. "Hey man you're not trying this" he says after taking a drag "It's bad for you. You're like my little brother". I'm flattered he c