The Melancholy of a Dumpster

7 07 2008

Here’s another thing I wrote a while ago…not sure I was drunk or not.

The Melancholy of a Dumpster

Put it in. Walk away. No looking back.
Push it. Squeeze it in. Fill it up. No turning back.
All that I am. This is me. Oh yeah go ahead. Please feel free.
No regrets. No apology. Just sew me up. No autopsy.

My body is an undiscovered dumpster. Just a mystery.
Fill with lust. All the rush. Passionately but no intimacy.

Then,

I died all day but at 4 AM, I was born again.
Just one or two hours of rest, was that an entertain?
I waited for you to do it again.
Put it in. Walk away. No looking back.
….exactly the same.





Something I wrote when I’m drunk

8 06 2008

I always feel a little bit ‘artistic’ when I’m drunk (but not super drunk). Here’s some silly thing I furiously wrote…….Oh, drama, drama, drama.

One Mistake Led to an Endless Mistake.

It was just a mistake.

He said ‘Oh, I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean to spread your legs’.

Well, haha, I wanted to laugh my jaw break.

‘Cause all he said, couldn’t compare to what I’ve already hated.




Damn it! I admitted I quite had some fun.

But when it was over, I wondered what I had done.

“Yeah, Yeah, baby, it’s all good, it’s over hun.”

I looked inside my bag, grabbed a gun and smiled when that bastard ran.




So I’m now alone in the dark.

Seeing myself in a mirror, the devil appears behind me and asks;

“How are you doing, son?”

I reply in a sudden, “Look at me, Do I look like I’m having fun?”

“I know you don’t, my son”, he roars.

“That’s why I’m giving you more”


——————————————————————-


That’s it.

It’s a bit like Fiona Apple meets early Alanis Morissette.

Well, except it’s much, much sillier.