Το δέντρο.

Ένα δέντρο είμαι.

Στέκω μόνο.

Ξερό, στεγνό, ξεθωριασμένο.

Κι έχω μια γριά μηχανή 

στην κουφάλα μου, αυτόματη.

Ανάβει, σβήνει, ανάβει, σβήνει.

Κανείς, ποτέ, πουθενά, δεν έμαθε για μένα ή για αυτήν.

Κι αυτοί που ήρθαν στο φαράγγι,

με ξέρουν σαν σκιά.

Ή σα φωτιά.

Μόνο εκείνο το πουλί,

που κάθησε κοντά μου.

Αλλά κι εκείνο,

με ξέρει σαν μια στάση.

Μα, ούτε εγώ ξέρω πότε ήρθα εδώ.

Ή γιατί.

Ή πότε θα φύγω.

Εγώ είμαι μόνο ένα δέντρο.

Κι έχω μια γριά μηχανή 

στην κουφάλα μου, αυτόματη.

Ανάβει, σβήνει, ανάβει, σβήνει.

Attaboy!

Once, there was a boy

He was, I think, somebody's toy

And felt so sad. And poor. And coy.

When time it was

to steal, to rape, to burn, to kill and to destroy,

he WEPT.

But Awe!,

Did he enjoy...

Christmas spirit?

All this X-mas, smootch, Santa crap has really gotten into me. Sometimes it feel's so weird to be, you know, alone. Empty. And by using the word weird you should know that I'm just trying not to ruin my swagger. Cause it doesn't feel weird at all. I'm actually quite familiar with that feeling. It's like somebody found it quite clever to expropriate a 10 by 15 cm lot from the left side of my ribcage so that he can build a condo hotel with a cactus garden. I surely can tell it's winter from the way the cactuses look. Ugly.

And what the fuck is wrong with that glass that's got to be either half full or half empty? It has a half that's definately full and another one that's definately empty. Unless you wanna take it, drink the water, fill it with scotch, drink that too and then throw it on the wall.  And then set a snare in your fireplace. Santa is going down tonight!

That's the spirit!

Today I'm so gonna get drunk, light up a smoke and try to be possessed by the christmas spirit! Some say it looks like your everyday regular normal ghost with the white sheets and all. I believe that the common summoning ordinance is to take the Ouija board and spell "I wanna be sad-ated" - I don't quite know if it works with "sedated" as well - while dancing half naked, drinking cheap chmpagne at a boring christmas party.

Never tried it before.

Emit Flesti.

Can you here that?.

.

That dull and husky sound.

It beats without cease.

Can you here that?.

Oh, just missed it!.

Like a laughter.

Like a tear.

But it's always there, here, there.

Meaningless.

Like some thought.

It is.

Even though just an illusion.

in my mind.

Oh, I fear there's going to be some time. (ironic, itsn't it?)

that I'm going to only think 'bout that.

.

That dull and husky sound.

.

.

Can you hear that?.

Destroy.

Τhe young cowboy thought he'd better take a rest by that river. It had been a hard day. He got off his horse, she was a nice grown mare, lit up a cigar, a Marlboro I think it was. Actually it could have been just about anything since this is a fictional story so I get to choose. Eeh, no it's not! It's just me trying to find something catchy as an excuse for an introduction to my "Putting the blame on lies blog". Fuck i've lied twice already. So he found a nice plain rock and sat next to it on the rough, full of nettles, ground. Never knew why he did that though but boy was he going to regret doing something so stupid. Bigtime. There he was smoking his cigarette and all and that's when it came to his mind:

Was I so wrong putting the blame on lies and deception. Lies are definately not the darn problem. Lies could be great. They could keep you from being hurt, help you organise a surprise party (imagine trying to do that without being able to lie! What a big diassapointment would that be!), aid you in your quest to be the greatest story teller of all times (-What?? He really slayed the dragon, killed 200 footmen using only dental floss, fucked the princess and bathed in the blood of his enemies while drinking a cup o' milk?? -Naah, not really..) and a lot of other stuff that right now get in my way of putting forward one of the biggest truths that is ever to be told.

Along with the magnificent power to create came the malevolent power not only to destroy but also to corrupt, defile each and every thing and idea. Man has the undeniable inclination to deprave, twist and manipulate. Take money for example! Such a big achievement to give value to material, such a great idea to represent it with something universal you can exchange so that you can be fair! So here comes man and fucks it up! Steals, exploits, rigs the market, robs the bank, kills the cashier and then fucks his daughter, films it and sells it on the internet. How 'bout love! The ultimate feeling of affection! Here comes the recipe! Take some love, stir it up with lots of human behaviour and there you have it: Jealousy, obsession, obesity (I don't know why I include that, I guess I like the way it fits with obsession), fixation! Guaranteed success. Sucks-es. Bigtime. Why would lies be the exception?

That's what went through the young cowboy's mind. That and the fact that all this time there was a rattlesnake that was watching him from up close. So he stood up, accepted his fate and faced the music. He totally made out with the cold snake. Nothing passionate, it just had to be done. Din Dan. He punched his horse on the face, got on it and before you knew he was lost in the horizon. He was kinda moody.

Everybody lies.

The guy that decided that all human relationships were to be based on lies and compromises should have been such a fat self-loathing dickhead. Really, what the fuck was he thinking? It would have been so much better had he that day just stayed home and watched some kind of prehistoric apelike Greys Anatomy instead of going to the "Decisions that stick with human existance for like forever" council. And who the fuck elected this guy to have a considerable opinion? Fuck them too! Fuck everybody.

That's what the wise judgemental guy said and then banished himself from reality. Actually it wasn't anything that poetic. He just got wasted and ordered a hooker C.O.D. 

Fuck that guy too! Who the fuck is he to judge the way humans have been living, interacting, coexisting (ironic, isn't it?) all this time? It's worked quite well for them too. Well, lies and deception might have caused exploitation, war, destruction, catastrophy, pain, misery, misanthropy and every single thing that crashes, fuck no, devastates, vaporises every glimmer of will to live, but to hell with that stuff. Those are just side-effects.

Fuck! I just turned on the T.V. , bumped onto some female models getting their clothes off and suddenly -Bang- down goes my will to be the aggravating messenger of truth, up goes my mood to just sink into the oblivion that only a young female body (by "young female body" I mean tits 'n' ass) can offer.

 

I'm gonna use some good ol' adages just to sum it up:

Roses are red, 

violets are blue,

sugar is sweet;

FUCK LIES.

If the Man is five 

and the Devil is six 

then God is FUCK LIES.

Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong.

And then FUCK LIES.