I drink when my wife is off to work. I used to work. For the last 1 year I didn’t work. Due to the regulations of this complicated country I’m living in, I can’t work here with an official work permit.
To be honest during my career, I’ve been in fights with directors and CEO all my life. Whether it’s about partnership objectives, marketing strategies, or event budgeting etc. it was never the reason why we argued, it’s because the way they are, or the way they tell me I am. The way the treat employees is what keeps lingering in my mind. Those f****** motherfuckers. They put pressure into us to work over our agreements. I work till 2am- 4am. I come home and can’t make love to my wife cause I’m too tired, or too drunk and high. She complaints that I can’t keep her satisfied. So to keep to myself ecstatic I’ve realized that I work and live more efficient when I’m high or drunk. I give it all my best, my optimum self to the dharma I thought I had to give.
Goddammit, am I wrong.
The drug don’t last. The euphoric feeling that’s risen in me don’t last.
I take pills. I drink.This opiate synthetic drug gives me the euphoria I need to keep myself passionate. This methanol alcohol I have in my stomach gives me the strength to smile to people. Oh, you think, f*** this has nothing to do with my work attitude, rather my addiction to being happy in all occasions and areas. You maybe right, but you’re wrong.
I’m too drunk at the moment to keep it up grammatically correct. What the f*** do I care, I’m confessing to you right now. So be patient with me. The truth is that I don’t give a f*** about anything. I might be happy, and at the same time I have the feeling to kill someone. I practice hatred and vengeance. It’s not real but I feel like it’s real.
I dream of carving the face of my enemies into bones, then I wake up. I feel embarrassed and guilty. So I start to drink with my pills and it makes me feel like a saint. My wife is the best woman in the world. Then after a while, she makes me feel like a p************. I have a daughter, she’s 6 months old. She’s the best thing in my life. I love her to death.
Oh come on friend, keep up with me. I confess, you gonna try to help me not?
I want to kill those fuckers. Those people, this world. What should I do? Shoot them? I’m really good in sniping. I think I’ll make me smile. To see those brains explode.
Haha. I’m just joking. I don’t like to hurt anyone. I just like to get fucked up and write to you.
I’m actually a really decent fellow. A kind and uplifting person. Most of my friends think of me as the real n****, if you know what I mean.
I used to kill animals when I was a kid. Open them up to pieces and check their inner organs.
I have so much love for everyone now. I can’t hurt a fly now. My wife is the best. My mind is fucked into a corner.
She’s a Muslim. I try to be, but f*** it. I’ve read the Quran and part of the Bible. I love their peace verses, but their sword verses contradicts all of it.
What a bunch of s*** if you ask me, I might be wrong though. My limit of knowledge doesn’t reach that far. Haha, you tell yourself. I know. F*** you.
I think I know what I am. I know what you are as well. We are the source aren’t we? The complex drop of ink when thrown on a wall. The pattern that develops into complex patterns. God? Deep inside, we know don’t we? God, the everything. Pantheism. Baruch Spinoza all over again.
And yet you have no clue even when you try to find yourself in the abyss of the cosmic self.
I never killed anyone in my life… but I think I’ll kill myself. Out of pure happiness.
To protect others around me. You understand?
I’m in peace now. How long will it last friend? Maybe I should be like Jesus, Yeshua.
Investigate yourself. And be spiritually enlightened.
Stop asking yourself what is reality. The nature of reality is everything what you want it to be.
It’s the simple I/0 formula. On and Off. Everything is nothing, and vice versa. Do you really believe this friend?
What if I told you that you are doing exactly what you’re suppose to be doing. Examining me with your research.
Comparing my being with another. To see what is giving me this pain.
Maybe it’s unnecessary. In your point of view.
Maybe it’s just the way it is. The natural cosmic complexity, turned into simplicity.
Oh god am I fucked up. I love it so much.
Maybe cause it’s not real, and I play it as if it’s something new.
I need another drink. Let me raise this glass to the people in my house. A toast to the real self of everyone and all the ones in existence and beyond.
The funky technician is back.
