Scrapbook thoughts

door Vulpius

Even cartoon figures are better off than I am.

Here for holiday or work, she asks. Work. A few weeks. So what do you do? I tell them.

What an interesting life you must have.

You have no idea… I take my leave. The shop has just closed. Sorry, man. It’s okay.

A man outside is screaming. Angry at someone. Maybe himself.

A knock on the door. Housekeeping. I don’t even bother to get up. Let a man sleep.

Three sentences. That’s all I get from her now. Is it me? No energy left.

What is your star sign? My zodiac? She is sweet, beautiful. I wish I could stay. I wish she would stay.

We meet for one moment. We say goodbye with a sloppy kiss. I don’t even dare to hope to see her again.

Let’s see in a few months.

I remember I made a mixtape for someone once. She is married now. Her child is one year old. Good on her.

You should see this place, so he tells me. I can’t be bothered, really. Wikipedia has it. Google maps has it. I just adapt too quickly to be amazed or adventurous. Globalization rocks.

What will you do, afterwards? I have no idea.

Pay with card or cash? He puts the second-one-free jug down right after the first is empty. He wants me out of here.

They miss me. Sweet. How’s it been, they will ask.

An old man stands in the elevator. He smells of drink and piss. Sorry, he says, didn’t mean to keep ya out.

I wish there was a pill for this. Pretendlifedol.

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