Nobody life

Since I can remember, I have always loved being alone. Only in this way are you truly free from all the chains that society ties you to and defines for you what is what, but when you are alone you can paint your own reality without anyone interfering. Of course there will be some who will not be happy with it, but when there is no desire for a kosher existence or to align with the so-called "norm", it's just a pointless joke!

I do not understand this desire at all, to connect with creatures who chase me with papers and pieces of paper and think that if they make cloth bags out of them in the DIY style, they will not notice that they are getting old. Okay, you can understand that it is an evolutionary instinct in order to survive like the "love" who is nothing more than an excuse to have children.

They need to understand that times are changing and so are the ways of life today, everyone is focused on their own ass and complaining about how full of shit they are. But they still claim to have connections with others. But that is only because society defines it that way.

Combined with the thought that just because the ideas and things we have in our hands are different, it means we have advanced evolutionarily. And what's funniest is that they don't just end their lives alone, they start and end every day like that and they are not willing to admit it.

But when you recognize it! Or then it's a different story, then all this becomes a meaningless joke that you watch from the sidelines, and in your knowledge there really is what others dream of - absolute freedom!.

But I am a living organism and like every cell in this unconscious disease called humanity, I also need to talk to someone in times of need because of this thing called "sanity". And my phone friend looks like a tattoo catalog from the central station of the Ramat Gan Safari.

His hair is brown and always messy and his eyes are dark blue, cold-tempered and hard, his skin is fair and full of tattoos and his clothes are always black. Every time I walk down the street or at home and try to vomit the manure that my luck and life feed him, he is there. Always knows what to do and say, it's worth feeling at least something close to good about myself.

Maybe except for the times I shower, despite the thousands of times I've argued with him to stop. He keeps poking his damn holes in me!. You can certainly say he's just a reflection, some kind of subconsciously transformed raccoon, but what the hell do you understand by that?! Nothing. One of the most annoying things in today's society is that everyone who dries their hair thinks they can determine the problems of the other. Because who on earth knows more about a person's environment than themselves.

People would probably think to themselves, "What would mom and dad say?" Well, they can't really say anything without some crook who defines tablecloths and linens as clothing moving a glass. But even if they could, they wouldn't say anything because I buried my thoughts and views in pain, constantly suffocating under the state of external impressions.

Not to mention the work that was done anyway, who would try to see this tombstone besides my close companion. He wasn't just a supporting hand, he was also the gravedigger who brought in all the hatred and self-loathing that came from the fact that I'm just a stupid zero who can't do anything right!. Apart from dreaming about finished products that my fat ass is too lazy to make because he's too afraid of the road!

. Or cutting HA HA HA, off social ties because I think I've reached something and calls once in a thousand years and feels like the shit that I am, who just takes advantage of Rotem and throws in the trash.

Over time, I came to understand that relationships with every living being are just a temporary and pathetic excuse to waste time instead of trying to be something in this shitty life and not evaporate like a rotten apple in a landfill.. And of course, no one will force me to open this gravestone. I put a crooked smile on myself and the word is okay.

Although I just whine to myself because who doesn't have a gravestone like this and amuse myself thinking about how many hands they used. because when you think about it, a person is a walking note that society and the note itself draw what they think they see and no matter how much they think what they say is right,immigrants can't know how many cemeteries are being built on the other side.

Maybe except for those whose graves are more like a sickly representation of acake in a Nahuga dance in the office of a shrink who is allowed to formal.

Although quite a few crave such opportunities. You can't let it fill your time. And if you already live them, you have to give them more meaning than what they are or at least pretend to have one and my way of doing this is to build baby dolls.NOT for a feee of course! I may be a resentful monkey with dropout problems but not a sucker!. You could say it's quite ironic. The fact that a person who sees human relationships as a waste of time would engage in one of the most convenient and simple alternatives that society offers for this.

But as they say if you want to be the best at what you do, do what you know how to do best. And as with everything in this existence, so too with the list of the beautiful and the right (and the only ones I would really like to talk to). Well, my manhood and gentlemen, tied our hanging stars with stormy hands, the fourth place went to Lia! Who reached her honorable place not only thanks to her brown skin or wavy hair, but also thanks to breaking the stigma of Hollywood's cat porn with iron opinions.

And in third place is Sam! Who even in his dirty pajamas looks like James Bond, who, like Daniel Craig, got his name thanks to his creations and his sharp mind. And in second place, welcome Sophie! Despite her thin and pale appearance, she has more depth than the Mariana Trench. And the plastic crown and sour go to ... Andy! The guy definitely knows how to act and with a cynical humor that is simply tearing.

Well, thank you to everyone who wasted their lives reading these lines and to the audience who didn't come. As you already understood, I'm pretty lifeless. But it's certainly better than the character and names that my clients would pull out of their fertile imagination. I also give names and character to the rest of my works. It makes me wonder if friendships and relationships have values ​​and benefits and maybe even the possibility of producing something close to pleasure and joy.