As the bus entered the woods, coldness and intensity rushed in my lungs.
Cigarette in my hand still burning from the time of glossy openings…
I liked it, I liked the sounds of wind; roaring through the leaves of those unknown gathering, I liked those dreams getting crushed under the friction of the old tyres.
I was gazing in the oblivion…you know you are in one when there comes pockets of nothingness in your brain cells.
I could remember the first time I saw my father fucking another woman…I felt nothing,
but my twelve years self couldn’t take what was given…
A piece of this whipping world.
I started hating dicks…all dicks, my dick…not because it was bad or something but cause my father had one of those meaty shit.
I think I can understand him more now…I think now I know what it takes to live in this world with a soul full of rejection…
I think we could have been friends now…I think we could have been drinking partners now.
His razors, his books, his clothes, his smell; all are gone.
The forest was almost over…the lights were coming.
I could remember something else…I could remember a cremation…
How rotten smokes from that silent body created a whirlpool of this flickering universe…
And how my father; standing by my side; explained the significance of a meaningful crossing at that very moment.
I think after that I have been more escaped than I could escape ones.
Bam!!! A flat tyre broke my father’s eulogy.
I guess it was always meant to be.

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Photograph: Jason DeRusha.