Monday 7 October 2013

The never ending John

                Everything about John so far, every story, every death, every promise of change. Fuck that. You can forget all about it. People don't change. People never change. Put a man in the same situation ten times over, and ten times over he will do the same thing, the same mistake. And maybe he's insane. Because after all, doing the same thing and expecting a different outcome is indeed the act of a crazy man. Or maybe he's just John. Same old, same familiar John. The John that thought he died, and never was so wrong in his existence. The John that hoped he could, the idealist, the hypocrite. He's always there, same place next life. It's almost like every time he dies he rises with the same structure. Just as extraordinary, just as stupid, just as fucked. And another death comes way too late and changes nothing whatsoever. And it's nobody's fault but John's. He tried fooling himself, like everyone does, lurking around concepts and ideas that one feeds to himself in order to feel better about their existence.
                John kept saying to himself, repeating to himself, that the world is fucked, that the past is better, that he's only stuck for now and that he'll get out of it sooner or later. But the truth is, it's all a bunch of self medicated crap that he needed to feed to himself in order to create his comfort zone. John said the world is fucked. Wrong. The world is fine, it always was and it always will be. It's John that has a problem, it's the people who are fucked, and the people that keep fucking, and not in a good way. It always goes like this, like a vicious circle. People fuck John, so John fucks himself up just to feel in the trend, and then of course that John fucks others too, because a screw-up never stays a screw-up without spreading the plague. And he's sorry he's fucked. But he can't help it. Or even that's a lie. Maybe, just maybe there was a point somewhere in time when he could have done something, said something to break the vicious circle. But that moment is long gone, and this is this, and John stays John for now and forever. There's only one death that can set him free, and that's not a death that he's ready to accept.

                There would be no arise of the phoenix, no coming back from that one. And John could never die like that. That's why he must keep going. After all, life remains a bitch. John has to get used to that, just how the world got used to him. No more floating, no more escaping, no more running away. The world is never going to change, and the mind quickly runs out of corners to hide in. And so, the never ending never changing John Doe must hit his head over and over on the brick wall that is reality until he learns that there's no way of breaking it, there's just acceptance and acceptance.

Tuesday 1 October 2013

The day John thought he was a poet

You know so well those glittering eyes
That burn your heart like suns from a thousand skies.
They laughed and they cried an made you believe,
But now you're condemned to sit and watch them leave.

You know so well those rose petal lips
Filling your heart with unbearable bliss.
In kisses they crushed you and threw you so high,
But now is the time to kiss them goodbye.

You know so well that silky long hair
Covering her face like a wedding gown's veil.
Stroking your heart all your leashes they tore,
But now in your pain they can comfort you no more.

You know so well that you once had them all
And above all the voice that filled your restless soul.
When you had them together you could feel no pain,
But now you have lost them, you need novacaine.

                                                                   Painkillers,
                                                                         John Doe.