EMOTIONAL MASTURBATION

 

Crappy. Not an avant-garde. It doesn’t break monotony. Mediocre. It is something everybody knows and everybody does.

 You dove in heart first. It’s your fault. Don’t blame her for tearing the shit out of you. You fucked. So stop being so wholesome. The joy, think of the joy. Don’t dread! Don’t die.

 It’s Friday! Don’t think of sadness or don’t think at all. Spend it at the pub with beer-bloated patrons. Avoid the dumps. Stay blissful. Go home with stale smell of beer. Take a hit and stay frozen. Choke yourself with the greeneries and be over the moon. Sleep like a princess wearing Christian Louboutin Daffodil Strass Crystal Sole Pumps.

 Look grotesque in the morning. Tell those a-holes its art. Tell them it’s Dadaism. Start a fight and fear no soul. Get into an argument. Laugh at it. It’s the meaninglessness of things that makes you want your life absurd. No need of solutions, No denouement, no complexities, no need of happy endings, no sad soul. No emotional masturbation.

 Pretend pretending. Even if lying to yourself won’t take you anywhere. Live the now. Be an existentialist. Go fuck. Depressed. So what? I’m loving the outcome.

 It’s normal to miss someone else. And if that’s how you feel, I understand -with Sincerity.


2013

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