Consuming streets

Consuming streets

A Story by L' entranger

I watching people how they l playing with each other. All looks very mental buying products and selling own souls . Working in s**t for the s**t. Betray own ideals and dreams. I can see them like a shadows in each room and bus station. Eating and drinking in a restaurants. Later on sharing of own sexuality. This is the world of banality and boredom. Artist are just copy machines of anything. They never create anything too great. I like walking to alone over snowy streets in early morning. No one is there to bothering me with they looks and conversation . I enjoy any single moment without humanity. I can see lies and betray grabbing this world every single minute. Every day production of lies and violence. Humanity is disease and there is no cure. We are too clever and too sly . We think we are number one here. Sometimes there is few drunken people fighting or loving. I  pass them with nothing to saying. This not for a me , this world of free choice and there is  everybody like  wondering ghosts. When streets are






 getting busy there is time for me to get home . Back into my safety writing journals , drink



 lot of coffees and listen to lot of weird music. When I finish my a writing . Now is time for reading mostly poetry or prose. Long stories really boring and everybody are too wise and sterile. I waiting for evening when streets will be again empty for me. Before i go to the coffees and lounges. To write caricatures about people who I seeing around the me. People talking without sense to actually said anything. Church bells are sounding over my heart. Closing hours and beating with fist into another person. Next miracle of this evening. I watching when they are finish and go to closer who lost battle of tonight. I call emergency number and watch him without words. There is nothing to say. Nothing to pass . When I can hear it ambulance , I will vanish in my own darkness. Streets are welcoming me with silent and solitude. In houses are still lights on someone making love and someone not. Here we are sharing our painful dreams over our windows. Sometimes we bleed like a pigs. You writing me a letter about your justice. But you are weak like low a crime. I cannot relate to your words. I let burning on frozen snow . Ashes all over frozen lake. There is no one just one death dog . He was kill by drunken man. All these stories in my heart. All women who passed me without signals or thoughts. Wondering me like a shadow of all lives. Staring you when you reading this. My words will never reach you in your head . That's fine maybe you are death. 






© 2017 L' entranger



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Added on December 15, 2017
Last Updated on December 15, 2017

Author

L' entranger
L' entranger

Praha , Le Paris , the new York Bohemia , VT



Writing