The classmates and the priests

It starts

I’m at a festival
Of singers I don’t know.
“But you have to go”
They say
So I listen to the command
As a dog that was trained long time ago
And gets no more treats.

I go there with a friend.
Boring, not dumb though,
Some might even say smart
But I won’t.
We go there, we walk around
We take more circles than we can count
Cause the music is shitty
We can’t buy no booze
Nor can we get a good pussy.
We stand here, then go elsewhere,
Did I mention we went
Over there?
No, I didn’t cause it’s all the same
All the same singers
Who aren’t good.
They’re shitty.

We meet some friends.
Well, he does.
I have never seen these people.
One dude looks tense.
Not scared though, just tense.
He speaks loudly about things that don’t matter.
For example.
Old classmates.
Old teachers.
Well just some memories that bond them.
Memories that hide their miserable “now”.
They think they got out of school.
And their life will begin.
I thought so too.
But life is an ongoing process.
There is no life in the future or the past.
Only now.
They don’t like the present.
So they dig in the past.
There’s also a girl.
A beautiful girl, if I say so myself.
Strange long eyes.
With a cute nose.
Her blond hair a bit wet.
As if she played the games of love.
Her smile so wide that it takes forever to get to the other side.
She doesn’t speak.
She just stands as a goddess.
Knowing how beautiful she is.
Knowing how much power she wields.
Well not anymore, cause she speaks.
And all her mystery is revealed.
She’s just another kid.
Who thinks life will change.
Yet the present is so bad she brings up the past.
She joins the conversation about the old class.
The classmates and the priests.

There is no way
For me to speak up.
As we don’t share the same past.
They are strangers to me.
So I leave as quite as I can.
I wonder, will they miss me?
I move towards the singers
(Remember, I am at a miserable festival
Where dumb pride of illusion of meaning
Manifests itself hiding the truth, that is,
You’re meaningless. I know this feeling,
I’m in a church!)
There’s the same singers that I don’t know.
I feel invisible
Because people don’t have eyes anymore.
At least the eyes that still show a sign of soul.
Anyway, I come back home
I eat, I lay down and I drink,
I don’t think about the past,
I accept the “now”, the sad, ugly
“Now”.
I fall asleep.

It ends.