loops on top of loops on top of loops

to me,
everything just seems to repeat itself.

it goes
it goes…
then again
(same pattern, different actors)
it comes back.


plain expression of unfiltered nothing

I don’t breathe in smoke anymore,
in drugs to calm my hectic nerves
nor in pointlessness,
in plain cravings or primitive needs,
not even in words,
weak expressions of a boredom I can’t fathom…

monotonous journey

and one day I create a movie of my own.
where nothing will happen and everything will.
the epitome of boredom it will be.
the cure for insomnia.
no drugs, no pills,
monotony is the best antidote to the deprivation of sleep.

to dance with the dead

“Hi there!
want a memory from Kosovo?”

I got plenty…
I got rivers flowing as if flowing inside
mountains high enough to reach the skies
I got clouds parting when viewed by me
and thoughts making me what I plan to be

but yes,
do give me one more.