Pretty pretty pretty. Drinking like a master, vodka soda one by one, smiling, laughing, embracing the lovers and silent haters. Someone took my key, from vodka to on relief. Couldn´t be a better run. Walk home. Tuk Tuk or make a handstand but you are not going on a ride tonight. Alcohol makes you arrogant and ignorant. I felt more challenge investigating where this lover parked my motorbike. “I tell you tomorrow.” And I felt so smart, knowing and proofing the assumption. I found it right away. Not smart enough not to jump on the motorbike. I felt, on a bridge not far from home. Sand is wandering thick over. Of course nobody care except the many drivers who already dug their bones into the dune. Not that I wouldn´t have not fallen, though it´s a fucked up corner. And I was expecting, accepting the fact I did it again right away, which is actually more scary than any other fact of stupidity. I stood up, confirming I am ok, nothing broken, scratches, which will burn a couple of days and make showers quite less enjoyable. The roads were abandoned, stars were melting shadeless. Bright bright darkness. I took the next right after the bridge, home stretch. And I think I was checking my wounds and I saw trees approaching from the corner of my half shut eye. Bumping against the boardwalk, sliding alongside and finally crushing my ribs on the rim. The side mirror lost. Nobody around me. “I bring me home.” A soldier dragging his perforated body across the battlefield. Me a soldier. Cheesus fucking Christ. How much stupidity can you last a life? The odd part about, I was expecting this accidents since days, had this gut feeling. However that helps, not.
