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On The Common Place

The ultimate fear of my entire existence (this and other) is the common
I fear being common over death – In fact, death and me are not very different, I do not fear dath at all.

And now:

Friday night, – I, who never knew which day I was in (time is concept)
Exhausted from a week of work, – I, who said I would never let work become work (enjoy your craft)
Count days to my holidays – I, who said in the beginning of this book, holidays aren’t to be sought (you get tired of fixedness)
Have just a box of cigarettes and a bottle of whisky, plus thoughts of how long I’ll endure the ennui of being
To accompany me until I pass out on the balcony

And, by no coincidence, Ordinary World by Duran Duran started on the radio.
Yes, I could be listening to one of my streaming playlists, but I turned the local station on the radio.
They do play some nice old stuff at night when no one is listening anymore – is anyone ever listening at all?

I feel unextraordinary and dull
Alone and purposeless

Because somehow it is embedded in my DNA that I should get someone, marry and have kids
And I cannot escape that. The more I try, the more I depress
And I left my last guy to get to know myself better
But I feel just lost. I lost myself in the journey

And all that’s left from when I knew exactly who I was and the common place feared me:
The alcohol, the smoke and the blues that made me highten every emotion to feel alive

Some days, I’ll just make ammends with the common place
Some days, the poems will be just this ordinary
In ordinary words

And some words twists won’t even do the work