Faulty returns my hunger

Nothing of the old days
I carry over this threshold
Everything that once made sense
I now ought to think otherwise
Oh what had I laughed
about the pictures above in their heads.
Blood and sperm.
That was fitting
the times.
Most days,
I just live like that.
There is no real joy my brain whispers to me
remember the good times yet?
In past tense
– only entertaining occupation
without real meaning.
The big ones do big things.
The little ones are running
around for a paycheck.
Blood and sperm.
That’s all we have left in life over time.
repetitive thoughts,
When a lamp goes out, it’s off.
I hope they get to experience what comes next.
I remember that, long past.
tales about golden days.
But it doesn’t matter,
blood and sperm,
sound and smoke.
Everything fades in a moment.
Names will be retained.
the rest of things are hanging horrors.
They’re hanging on ropes above our heads.
Mythology, religion, philosophy, morality.
Have you discovered yourself in other people’s positions yet?
New and an extension of our borders
exciting for the moment.
It’s a loss.
Man gives existence a name when he does not think of blood or sperm.
Nice to know what to expect.
The lowest form of existence,
that’s where fear is lost.
That’s where you get lost.
But not long enough.
Never long enough.
When you fall, you feel the lightness of a burden-less.
What kind of ground is there?
Because you end up dead
in a body bag anyway.
My closing thought:
Blood & sperm
what more is here?
Not much more is what I hold.

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