dream detergent

I used to sleep in my bed, dreamt corner-less collages

and the world around me
Stared at me
Ceased to exist
Became more beautiful
Cried a little
Ceased to exist
Flickered back to life at a fast food joint
Gurgled my stomach
Did all sorts of things in my stomach
It would not acknowledge my existence at times
Walk past me when I’d wave
I’d always conclude it didn’t see me wave
In the first place.

I used to sleep in my bed, dreamt nasty orgies of time, space and thoughts

and the world
Around me peeled oranges
Kidnapped children
Sold orange juice
Sold children

I wanted a way out of the sour teeth
They so good on my tongue
I wanted a way out of the sour minds
They so dirty on my tongue.

Then I cleaned my bed on my own
Changed the sheets
Pressed my palms against the fabric
Pushed pillows against the bed a little
Curled to the left side and slept
Hearing god pouring manna (spit) in my ears
I could store my manna (cum) too
I slept without a dream.
Not giving two fucks what the world shits on, loves or eats.

Now I sleep in my bed, dream nothing
And wake up from it
Not only wake up
But exist
Simply
With bare feet on bare grounds
No wings of motivation, pain, self-validation
There’s no need to fly or break any glass ceilings

The destination will never arrive
It has always been here
I guess we do not have limited time
And life gives us too many chances.

We need to just stop
You, stop. Yes, you, stop

Piss, poop, breathe, drink water
Let it spill on your lips chest and dick or no dick
Pour a bottle of it over your head fully clothed, drown in solitude, spread your arms out, like sweet baby Jesus

You are sweet baby Jesus.

I have a sweet thing for me now
She’s petite but her being is sprawled across my 0x0 rented infinity
Her eyes are swords to my lungs
Her nose bridge my internal collapse
Her skin’s a field of rye
Her mouth my eternal resting place
She’s a packet of metaphors
So much. So good. So painful.
She takes orders from me
Plays music with my body
I read to her Bukowski’s — the best love poem I can write at the moment
I play it out to her
As long as I want
She smiles
I die a little.

I sleep in my bed now
And my world sleeps with me

Naked
Neat
Undisturbed

With a trimmed vagina, I rub my thigh against it
I choose not to sleep

This dream tastes better.

Related posts:

One might think that working remotely is not a big deal, we are just doing the same job as before, but we are at home. It might seem like that in the first weeks but give no extra tools to a remote…

Sales success is not random. Science provides a framework for predictable and repeatable selling strategies employing reason, intuition and emotions.

Silicon Valley loves to mock itself. We live for the latest Halting Problem writeup or Sara Cooper tweet. Every shiny new technology — chatbots, blockchain, AR/VR — gets its moment in the spotlight…