Joy as a Chemical Product.

Capturing moments. Impressions of Awareness.

Such as now.

Two people drinking, talking. Tension and frustrations. More drinking. Pauses. Silences. Awkwardness in action. Anger. Trusting and depending on people. Being disappointed. Alienating yourself for your mistakes, for your anger. Bantering. Keeping the few in. Weirdos. Weirdos. Weirdos… More people, more talk. Mingle. Socialize. An observer taking notes. Drugged, yet sober. Alienated by himself. Learning attitudes. Changes. Smiles and laughter. A careful nod, a silent sigh that goes by, believed to be unnoticed yet captured in ink. More moments. A mask. Flirting. Desire. Shame. Reflection of words written. Self-doubt. A small grab of a calf. A caress. More desire. Smoke. Another pause. Lack of important subjects. Alcohol, amphetamines, dopamine, desire, need, longing, seclusion.

Anger.

The observer as subject of himself. Doubt. Confrontation and need. Lack. Pause goes on. Smoke. Alcohol to soothe, to inspire and to assist the creation. Attention and need. Fear of wrongs. Just thoughts perceived. Possibly shared. Trains. Continuous. More and more alcohol. Authority. Offensiveness desired. Primitive need? Perhaps. Society was too fast for its citizens. They didn’t have time to adapt.

Mistakes.

At some point an error of incalculable magnitude occurred and passed by unnoticed. Out of it grew civilization and progress and we primates were left behind. Sex. Women. Desire. Memories and fantasies. Hidden dreams, hard to admit desires. The body seeks relief. Half-relief for this vulnerable observer. Lack. Pain. Need. Inadequacies. Slight drunkenness. Subtle effects of chemical reactions, provoking or allowing the spilling of emotions and thoughts.

Lies and deceit.

The observer, the I, deceives even himself in these words and you too. Keep busy. Forget. Avoid. Suffering is around every corner. Lost words for someone lost to find. Foolishness. Naivete. Bad taste, foreboding, foreshadowing.

Dirty nights.

Pause. No guts, shame. Bewildered people. Rambling and attention. Tears of attention, smelling dark. Seeing sightless. For you, brother, a look into my thoughts and craziness. Take it as a weary being, suspicious of the deceit in our language. And as a small confession of idleness in a alienated night of self-doubt, fears and joys induced, bought and shared. I am helpless above all and drowning in a desert. What shit we got to live. The Golden times? Progress? Civilization? Our own downfall.

Adieu.