42 views
weekly death
it's society that tells you
when to be born and when to die.
you started the car engine
heading north
on your frustrated star,
near the carolina store,
'cause the calendar fell back to
MONDAY.
you didn't realize that
TUESDAY
is almost done too,
as the sun sets
on the window
of your workroom.
anyway,
you hit the wall
while walking through the door
while checking your phone,
realizing you forgot
to call your parents.
you told your feet
to calm down
as you walked down
the lampless street
in the early evening on
WEDNESDAY.
you vowed yourself
to buy a new pair of shoes,
the ones you've been staring
through the glass
of the finest fashion store
since last month.
you somehow long
for the scent of pasta sauce
aside from your usual
sunny sideup morning
and a cup of coffee.
so you went to
the grocery store on
THURSDAY
to get something good to eat
and to celebrate your
new independence.
the alcohol tastes like heaven,
but the aftertaste
of being lonesome
hits when no one actually asks
how your day was.
well, it's 2 a.m. of
FRIDAY.
you remember all
your dreams and disasters
as your body hibernates
with insincerity,
so you think it's suicide day!
you realize it's
SATURDAY
and it's time
for your brain to be sliced.
so you booked an appointment
to see a doctor,
the first time
since you can remember.
you asked yourself
if you dreamed of this life
ten years ago
or if it was just the aftermath
of the indecisiveness
you earned
with your old friends.
all have a church thing
in their minds,
but none actually does
what's being preached.
i wonder
what it means to be a priest.
how does he live?
how does he spend his free time?
does he have a cigarette break?
how does he plan for his future?
does he ever think of getting a wife?
but i think the mirror only comes on
SUNDAY,
and everybody doesn't give a d*mn
to social issues anymore.
(but seriously,
who told you
to commit
suicide on
friday?)
© ubik
postscript:
our timeline has never been counted down; surely time is gold to commit to a rat race.
[image taken from freepik.com]
#ubikfeelsodd
when to be born and when to die.
you started the car engine
heading north
on your frustrated star,
near the carolina store,
'cause the calendar fell back to
MONDAY.
you didn't realize that
TUESDAY
is almost done too,
as the sun sets
on the window
of your workroom.
anyway,
you hit the wall
while walking through the door
while checking your phone,
realizing you forgot
to call your parents.
you told your feet
to calm down
as you walked down
the lampless street
in the early evening on
WEDNESDAY.
you vowed yourself
to buy a new pair of shoes,
the ones you've been staring
through the glass
of the finest fashion store
since last month.
you somehow long
for the scent of pasta sauce
aside from your usual
sunny sideup morning
and a cup of coffee.
so you went to
the grocery store on
THURSDAY
to get something good to eat
and to celebrate your
new independence.
the alcohol tastes like heaven,
but the aftertaste
of being lonesome
hits when no one actually asks
how your day was.
well, it's 2 a.m. of
FRIDAY.
you remember all
your dreams and disasters
as your body hibernates
with insincerity,
so you think it's suicide day!
you realize it's
SATURDAY
and it's time
for your brain to be sliced.
so you booked an appointment
to see a doctor,
the first time
since you can remember.
you asked yourself
if you dreamed of this life
ten years ago
or if it was just the aftermath
of the indecisiveness
you earned
with your old friends.
all have a church thing
in their minds,
but none actually does
what's being preached.
i wonder
what it means to be a priest.
how does he live?
how does he spend his free time?
does he have a cigarette break?
how does he plan for his future?
does he ever think of getting a wife?
but i think the mirror only comes on
SUNDAY,
and everybody doesn't give a d*mn
to social issues anymore.
(but seriously,
who told you
to commit
suicide on
friday?)
© ubik
postscript:
our timeline has never been counted down; surely time is gold to commit to a rat race.
[image taken from freepik.com]
#ubikfeelsodd
