The Idol

You remember the days of glory and see the lights of the stage illuminating your already known artistic and old shine, the girls scream your name and try to pretend the desire for sex while the guys who buy your discs dream of having the fame that conquers the beautiful blonde who will put up with your shits and overdoses – almost two years I didn’t see her until that Christmas.

Life plays tricks on wise people or perhaps it’s the ignorant ones who don’t realize this unfunny joking. A madman had already said “it’s better to wake up on the side of a stranger than to spend the night alone” I don’t argue his words, amidst this marathon of sex only one becomes the most important and yet the solitude continues. The house is still empty. I see amid the week the girls that come and go, mixing their smells to those already existing in bed, in the air and in my breath, many of them willing the lasting love that I know I cannot give. Sat on the bed while I get drunk I see like a flash her smiles, straighten of hair, the soft skin being covered by the sock and the kiss sent from the bedroom’s door.

I look around, the guitar thrown on the messy bed, some clothes on the floor, half bottle of whiskey and vodka beside the TV, wondering if I drink them now or after breakfast. At this dawn I lay on the couch e let the Country hat cover my face.

Today I dreamed of being in the middle of a sea with crystalline waters and a Jurassic turtle… The thoughts fly far away… The texts become short…