s̶a̶d̶ moisturized sod

came from the booze and the fags generation and prayed for the mayhem to start.

[monkberry]

may i stand unshaken amidst the crash of worlds?

it took me an arm and a leg to get back to pouring myself out.

i crave lifting my head up and look at the world with an appetite. i want to wanna take a bite, look up to the skies and feel the fact that i am a part of something empyreal. i want to feel the thrill of anything you can bring yourself to conjure in mind. the rot runs too deep for anything of sorts.

the routine and the mundane took a hold of my black lungs like black mold and i cannot cough it out. gangrene of my heart is spreading beyond me. ive read somewhere that you are considered old when you live in nostalgia and do not experience new things.

by that definition and some more, i am palliative.

there's a whole world turning and churning outside me. indifferent and mighty. and there is one right here that is frozen in time, a gorgon victim. i looked in the eyes of the desire and it cost me, well, me.

let's not do that again mate. eat what's on your plate. asking for seconds is for the lion-hearted.

[monkberry]

its been a wild ride, boys.

[monkberry]

Why do you think we fuck up over and over again? Just to see how deep we can go?

well someone asked me while i was getting a military grade fuck (literally i was serving) and i just never checked this box ever since 2011. but that is exactly why we fuck up. to test our limits. just to see how deep the rabbit hole goes. you do not stop until you hit a brick wall either.

[monkberry]

I loved you in athens

Among the dull marble rubbles

and when we scoured the hills in the evening for trouble

You devoured dakos after dakos,

And amazed at the fuckers atop athos

I loved you on a massive boat

With the wind nicking your ciggies

and the sea blew you kisses

I loved you on an island, on a sunday

We could see home not far away

Isn't home where you are anyway?

Our gums showed through our grins

Under the sun, by the gum trees

I loved you back home, with my sons around you

When at last you enjoyed a brew too

I loved you in the city. it was nothing new

It infruriated me, I think you knew

Ringo was there to calm us down too

I loved you first here, and I still love you.

How could I not love you, when it is you?

When the moon shines on my balding spots

And it punches you with a beam of light

I will be there to hold you tight

I will love you, in the tourist spots, the hills,

and in my dying cries.

[monkberry]

[monkberry]

let’s roll it back, shall we?

[vintagenorway]

Selected vegetables from the kitchen garden, 1978

[monkberry]

i hate uncertainities. i dread them. i abhorr them. but you already knew it, right? i mean youve been reading into my soul since the first day i started bombarding your social media with memes and corny reaction gifs (well sue me, they worked. haha jk... unless...) i get all jittery and marbelised when faced with uncertainities. who doesn’t like to know whats the 5-year-plan like?

dont get me wrong, you wouldnt anyways, but i love the adventure, the road ahead, the unknown seas. i’ll take things head on as a challenge just for a laugh. thats how i got floored by a giant mirror as a 5 year old. got scars on my legs and elbows still. is there a new adventure to be savoured? fuck off filthy hobbitses.

i love the future if i know what i want, where wanna get. i wanna just ram into the misty window in front of me, not have someone throw me through it.

ill pull the mirror sucking plastic thingy not caring if it will fall on me.

i wanna pull the mirror on me because i see you in there. i’ll take on a fucking dragon with you.

im in love with our future. i abhorr the alternatives.

[monkberry]

i had broken my arm when i was 12. double fracture. it was really nasty. a broken bone was pushing out of my skin. it took 4 days in the hospital, a surgery, 2 months of wearing a heavy cast for it to get back to normal.

at first it was a tedious thing to carry around almost 2 kilos of this horrendous looking symbiote. i couldnt play video games, i couldnt play basketball, sleeping was a drag in itself. 

dont get me started on showering and how much it itched.

but i was used to it fortnight. it was really a symbiote. it was just my snail shell. i would play footy in the schoolyard and i would take off the neck hang so that i could bend it to the top bin easily. i started playing video games after a couple of days as well. i was used to it.

still i couldnt wait to get rid of it.

when they finally took it off after 2 months, a sigh of relief followed. yet it was not that simple. everything that i did without an afterthought two months ago felt bizarre. lifting my arm when dribbling during PE class felt surely a lot lighter but... it shouldntve been lighter?? i was so used to it being heavy that it didn’t feel right that i was able to flail my arm.

my heart was in a thick cast for a longer time. it saw daylight and your light after all those times when it felt heavy as a habit; it naturally takes some getting used to. at times, when we are not cheek to cheek, when a song from my tom hansen days plays, i get that same feeling.

as if i should feel alone.

it is absolutely weird that im not alone.

by all means, im not alone. i have you.

my lighthouse. a desdenova.

im connected with my roots better now. being alone is a past concept to me now. and im shaking it off.

knocking off these old brown shoes.

[monkberry]

awaking from dead, i found you in tatters. you were caught in the crossfire of the battle of your mind and body.

you called for reinforcements.

i was late. i didnt hear soon enough.

whenever i underline the fact that you deserve the best of e͟v͟e͟r͟y͟t͟h͟i͟n͟g͟, i meant all of them. not a single instance where i overstated the value which determines what you get and should get from life. from me. the best of all. 

creme de la creme.

best treatment befitting the best.

but my mind lagged behind my heart and it pulled away the shackles of my chemically doused mind to no avail. i have no recollection of your hand reaching for mayday. until it was late, that is. 

thats why my chest hurts. if it could jump out of its cage, you could lick it that night. id offer it to you, a la twilight book cover. i love you that much.

thats why i wanna stab my mind at the back, on a dimly lit alleyway. not kill it though, just fucking make that cunt pay. 

ill be there next time. with my sword and shield and bed of roses and scent and arms. i’ll be fucking there.

because i want to be in your arms, hold you in mine, 24/7, and my half-dead ass is not exempt from the subject of 24 hour clock system as far as i am concerned.

if ive said it once, ive said it twice: demons in your head, beware.

[monkberry]

your scars are not your flaws. they are beautiful. you came here, despite them.

you know who doesn’t get scars? the dead.

we. are alive. we made it. we will make it.

e. 28/08

[monkberry]

balance. thats what i was taught as a kid. i was brought up tugged from all sides of life. even when i was a kid, i was not a kid. i’d arrange the teams in a match of footy and still couldnt make it to the captaincy. i’d come home to play video games, but i’d find myself intermediating my parents’ fights. my dad would buy me the stuff i wanted, then he’d give me a lecture for the ages. in one of those things, being the tight-arse he’s always been, he said “money isnt everything, but everything is money.” 

i’ll never forget that. although i picked that sentence up from the wrong end, it was engrained in me in the end, absolutely out of context. it was the last drop in my milk glass full of liquor. i was tugged from all sides but i was making sense out of it now.

balance was the key.

further along the road, i cannot say i put any extra effort into balancing things. but it’s ingrained in my dna so steadfast that if i step out of the line for a second, i feel the unease perched upon my head like an albatross.

it was hanging over me heavy. on my neck.

then i had to learn to be flexible enough to zig-zag along the line.

because theres more to life than what was inscribed on my bones by my shitty upbringing.

then she came along. she didn’t have to do much. i was on the right track with my headlights off. now all seems balanced, even when it isnt.

cos it doesnt have to be all the time. the right isnt always the balanced. its not a straight road. the twists and curves and rocky patches are a part of the deal. but all of it feels alright. cos im on my way.

and it feels right.

cos it is.

[monkberry]

2020. what a shit year huh? well not for me.

this raging pandemic is hardly unseemly for the times that we dwell in. the world is fucked up, nay, beyond that, in all shapes and sizes, on all fronts, and a pandemic is the least unlikely element in this mixture of chaos. throw all that in my own personal EXTREMELY SOUR dough and you can imagine the shitshow 2019 crescendoed with in front my eyes.

i started the year pretty simple. i didnt want any change for better or worse. i begged every all-powerful being to fixate me where i am, very much like your braces. i’d learnt to evaporate my feelings and thoughts, and not for the abundance of mediums to pour them out with. so you can imagine it like ganymede’s cup, but the absolute opposite of it. 

i didnt know that then, but i was brewing myself.

brewing myself like the perfect storm that you are.

monsoon of your love washed over me. mended my wounds. helped us both with our loads. showed me that being kissed on the neck is not getting stabbed in the neck.

im weightless. im floating. weightless. floating. 

im building a new house for myself now. a home. one which i can call my own. at long last. loong fucking last. and by god, on such a foundation!

with everything you brought, and everything that followed, im on a cruise mode. smooth sailing.

yes 2020 isnt all that bad. even though i took off my mask.

[monkberry]

it was as if the god put the sun through the crack of concrete parade premeditatively to greet your face. then the puppet-master let go of my shoulder strings.

ive never been the kind to say those 3 words abruptly but everything i do, everything that flies out of my mouth like flies seem to be a metaphor for those words somehow. even when we try to memorise the lines inside our irises, its another way of putting 40 million kisses on each other. see, i did it again.

the peace, the love, the trust we’ve built is not perceivable by any man-made concept anyways. i mean, what the fuck in this topsy turvy world can convey the beauty of the purple and orange lightbeam bridge between our hearts birdie?

the lengths we are able to go are nothing for our steadfast love. i swear to god, we will hop skip and jump along the way like a schoolkid. romance, intimacy, partnership, camaraderie, the fulcrum of our lives; we’ve got the whole package! and the stars and heavens and angels came together to give us a discount. 

watching you bloom will be the most exciting thing ever. as if your ivy blooms don’t adorn the walls of my heart already. thats why my pulse is bang out of order.

[monkberry]

not saying loving you and being loved by you is the best thing, but it is pretty close. im not the type of person who is gonna sit and talk about how a person changed their lives but fuck me, the sun is shining so bright desdenova.

love is our shelter.

[monkberry]

i am weightless. i swear i am floating

i choose to call it witchcraft. i mean you’re a witch and it would be the most befitting. cos i dont think neither of us can deductively detail the reason for our infatuation. i had a head-start compared to you; i’ve always had a hunch that we are destined for great things, so let me try to use some feeble words to map out the state we are in.

first of all, i’ve talked about the prospect of us being cast in the same mold. we shrugged it off, i know desdenova. but HEAR ME OUT, words mean little anyways. how else do we explain how we feel home under each other’s breath? how else can you elaborate on the fact that we trusted us right off the bat?

not gonna sit here and tell you all about how i can be the shoulder that you rely on when you get bruised or just taking the pebble out of your shoes, or how we can be launching pads for each other when we embark on new conquests, but its suffice to say that i believe this newfound belief in life and its possibilities is nothing short of extraordinary.

we are writing history. tell the sculptor to get ready.

the most beautiful thing is we are just getting started. we have enough capillaries to burst, plenty of kisses to distribute evenly or unevenly, enough skin to shed for countless caresses. we are not running out of ink. we just formed a beast, and no fucking god from above or below is stopping us. i dont think we would care if they tried.

demons in your head beware. im coming for their asses. im cheesed off.

you can count on me. take solace in my dedication. i know i can count on your love as well.

“your voice brought me back from the dead somehow.”

i 40 million kisses you birdie.

[monkberry]

another letter without a stamp

i feel the breaking of my bones, stabbing in my stomach stronger. bit by fucking bit. then you appear. with a smile that is never true, you say. then i think i’ll have an aneurysm when you show me the truest form of it.

you said love blinded me. WRONG. weird innit, for you to be wrong. its been super rarely that youve been wrong. love has opened my eyes. i mean i havent crawled out of a cave yesterday, but your love is a vodka shot, a dunk of freshly squeezed lemon juice, hottest hot sauce, all combined, for my brain. my eyes are popping out here.

there was a time i twaddled like the usual bellend i am, that i’d never love any one like i loved once, ever again. that bellend who twaddled was astonishingly right. i love you better than i’ve ever loved anyone, anything. (looking at you, my babies, which would be my feline cuties) you make me extremely happy by just being in my life; when i tried to fathom what would happen if we went further, i got a nosebleed the other day. i dont wanna cross it out as a coincidence. old me woulda! anyways, this feeling of exuberance, my cheek muscles’ dependence on your persian princess eyes feels exactly right. not a drop of toxic addiction, just a perfect harmony.

as we push the percentage of acquired data, i feel like the game is coming together. call me kasparov, cos i’ll spend fucking days on this table till you knock over my king. after all you’re my waterloo, i feel like i win when i lose.