Insomnia Blues

 

Stripclub music playing. Big-city cynicism talking. Feeling shallow, phony. Another unforgiving night. Sometimes, darkness is visible, opaque. You can see inside it, all the scenes missing from your life's film. Weeks, months, an ever ending break of commercials. They sell nothing, in the worst way imagined. Real commercials also sell nothing, but once in a while, they do it with pizzaz.

I turned to books, films and records  for escape. But these days, I need an escape from my escape. The heart needs oxygen, it's holding it's breath for too long. Maybe it's already dead, I don't know. Overthinking is a sentence. You  are a punching bag for your feelings and thoughts, they beat you in turns. Spill your blood all over the walls, and make you clean them too. 

Take a walk, try to unwind. There's a shadow in every corner, a version of yourself. A past version, happy. A future version. Happier. Or worse. You try to ignore them. But the city is a minefield of memories. You change the story  to suit your feelings or vice versa? One more drink. Someone I don't know, is trying to cheer me up. Behind the smile and the inspirational quotes, lies someone broken, dead and dry for years. Feeding on the sadness of others, just to feel good with himself. This is Disney level sad. He's been talking for 10 minutes, and I already feel like introducing his face to my shoe.

In the words of the great Robert Mitchum, there's no way to win this game, only a way to lose more slowly. But I miss a little winning streak. Just to make losing charming or at least bearable for a while. It doesn't matter anymore, who's wrong and who's right. It's all about the fire. There's a kind of fire that breathes life into you. That shelters you. Keeps you warm, burning every doubt. And there's this cold fire, swallowing every second, transforming time into a museum of broken promises, an aquarium of guilt. I'm tired. 

Last cigarette. Hope is cracking under pressure. It is possible to be young and old simultaneously? The villain and the hero? Waiting for that moment, that will magically transform  you into somebody else and maybe somebody will notice. I miss your singing, humming a tune. Mind is racing, on thin ice. Only you can defuse this demon, disarm this emptiness. Or maybe not. Where's a plot twist when you need one?