It was nothing serious, really…
Just some drunk kisses on the rave-up.
It was fully absurdly and freely
Two different hues of lipsticks on one cup.

We were peers… OK. I was a bit older.
The same musical tastes and life views.
We both were like a password-protected folder…
OK. She was always losing her clues.

When I entered to the kitchen she was painting a windowsill.
(I’m sure that right here I fucked up with articles and tenses.)
Yes, she was painting with a scarlet nail polish. A tiny quill.
Hellish stink. Hellish color. I swear, it was hell in all senses!

I went… and returned with a bottle of paint remover.
I just thought that red doesn’t fit. I would prefer black.
And she said, “Wow… booze. Cheers, my Rover…”
And she took a sip. Only one huge sip. Only a sip… and without a snack.

© All rights reserved 2014

a Combat neuron

My nerves are trembling… I can’t even press a button. Fucking switch! If the BigEyeSpy winks at me tonight, I’ll have the third misdeed. I’ll have even bigger problems with the Council of Observation. And I’ll not be able to use my insomnia or chronic fatigue as my vindication. They’ll not believe me again. It could end with a verdict of Apoptosis!’ and then it’ll really be a ‘peace-death’ for me… I should stop! I hate to yammer! I mumble, “Take this cup away from me…” and abruptly push this damned button.

A tepid wind is blowing, the oval room is wiggling… All right! I’ve connected to the Daily Dissonance. Now I’m part of the tracking system. I’m a combat neuron in the artificial neural network. I’m a good manipulator, I can control both the most powerful and the most dispensable influx… Oh! My bad! I forgot to introduce myself! Sorry! My name is Werther. I’m an operator of suicidal impulses. I must detect and actualize these impulses. And I must overwrite the instinct of self-preservation.

Today I hooked a girl. An ordinary young girl. She floundered in questions about the spread of Solidarity death and how this life looked like a Moebius strip. This endless strip was killing her, and making her weak and silly. It had to stop.

When I cut the strip my nerves did not tremble. That is why they pay me. Because I can be resolute. Because I can give my resoluteness to others.

© All rights reserved 2014

My special thanks to Cyan Ryan
for the grammar corrections and improvement this essay!

Good bye

A night builds own imperium.
A shadow steals my soul.
If my life is aimless delirium
Then death is a worthy goal.

An open window. Like drops of milk
These clouds in anthracite sky.
I finished a verse. I uncurtained silk.
I stepped on the sill. Good bye

© All rights reserved 2014