(1*)fortress, what the hell does this even mean, i was hopping for some other kind of word something a bit less hermetic, like void or empty, just as this plain dead day i had out there, i mean, come on, give us peasants something good enough to think of, i cant shell hide in no more, this day job is twisting my mind, i´m dying waiting tables, how long more, how long more for do i, how long more, i holding my struggle tight here at my bay, here at my,(...*1)
i was starting to feel quite uncomfortable with all those clients that came when i feeling hungry. I felt like having a rest, just a slight inch of stretch. Man, that time between 9 and 10 pm. what i waited for it all day long. and then as i just barely placed my lower back on the wall for a dip dip break of small relieve, someone can in and i had to stand still and upright, leave my fucked up dinner and give all my attention and good manners to these free-time people. I fucking hate club sandwiches. fuck that whole world of perfect khaki, shining shoes, fuckhole minds who listen to crap deep shit music, who love to seat hours straight, endless countless days after days on the cafes, dam you, free-timers, dont you have anything better to do?... damm, and then, i fucking start to hate my self, for envying them, for the stillness of their oceans, for the easiness of their plain soups and excess of numbness, daam you be. And whole that made me wonder about me, its all about me, fuck, its fucking sad, this shit of looking just to your own feelings, so narrow minded, but im pushed at this condition, why do you make me question myself? IM A GOOD MAN! IM A GOOD MAN! IM A GOOD MAN! IM A GOOD MAN! IM A GOOD MAN! IM A GOOD MAN! IM A GOOD MAN! IM A GOOD MAN! ... am i?