Brain Food, Dear diary

#7

Warning ! Content full of fiction.

I’m in a bar, drinking my luck and smoking some luckies. The people around me bore me, it feels like a black widow, I want to crash into someone’s brain. There is a deep fog around me but the spotlight falls and now I can see him, sitting there pretending he’s bored.  I will take my leave, saying absolutely nothing, pretending that I don’t care, pretending to ignore.


Surrounded by pillows, on the floor, I look out my room’s window and stay still, feel nothing. The sky is white, sad, almost screaming its pain out. I can hear drums and the waves collapsing on the beach and the hot sand embracing my legs. The wind whispers me “get up and kiss the sea“.  I’m collapsing.

You, the fog of my mind, make me want to dance with the tiny devils and embrace the lost souls of yesterday. I wonder if I will ever see your eyes again, I wonder how much will take until my clock will tick again. But I’ll wait. As I exhale slowly the smoke I watch how the lights are getting killed by the night.

Check out the previous diary entry, #6

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