And I went vomiting.
In the corner. Where the rats just had breakfast. Ate old kebap, french fies with vinegar and garlic.
My shirt went dirty. Took it off. It’s very cold these days I felt.
Well, went to a bus, had to catch a taxi, no naked driving in a tube.

I had to vomit it all away. Vomit myself rich. Being rich. At least enough money. Eat my own food. Have a life like everybody else. Like parents tell you to have one. Not being so much into art fucking shit, there is very little money. Kids, if you might read those lines, go out and study law, medicine or business stuff.

A stasi-caught guy cleaned himself in a cell by pissing all over him. Urine as the daily shower. Golden shower in middle of nowhere. Didn’t see the light of a day for about half a year, shit. No love. Had bread and water two times a day, no one spoke with him. Couldn’t shower, couldn’t change his clothes for a motherfucking half year. Human beings are shit.
Now he is maintime depressed, covered in an ironic smile, hardly trying not to be a drinker anymore. Lost everything because he went out to help people. His wife was raped- she now is in the nuthouse, never got over it. His daughter doesn’t speak with’em anymore. He doesn’t know where his home is.

I don’t care where my is. Felxible times make you homeless, make you ill, make you taking drugs, kiss the lipless, love the hearts made of stone because you can’t destroy them, make you being a drugkiller with a clear mind, if drugs in it or not. Make you go out and prostitute yourself for having food and a warm shower. Go out and fuck them. Let them have an orgasm to cry and scream. The will love you for being nearly priceless. The prince of dirty ground of the toilet.

Go and waste your bloody life darlings.

Paint your walls colourful.