I’m sitting on the floor
with my legs crossed
facing a fan.
The fan is set to
circulate so it hits me intensely
only every four seconds
for a period of three seconds.
When the air hits me I smile
because it feels good.
I want to inhale and exhale
and outside its 28 degrees
at midnight and I’m 29 years old
and I have 30 euros in my wallet
which I’m going to use to buy
weed so I can inhale
and exhale into this
wonderful fucking fan.
I love you fan
you keep me cool
and remind me of
the basic laws of physics
or is it chemistry?
Let’s go with science
In general.
If it wasn’t for science in general
by way of this fan
or other similar reminders like
when frying eggs and
dropping my phone
and shattering it
and ice melting when I
and polar bears
wish it wouldn’t
I may have lost
my mind by now.
The NeverEnding Story was terrifyingly
magical and had an effect on my mind
that I’ve never been able to escape.
It was a blessing for a while
because, yeah, I dreamed big, but now it’s
torture. I have to fake happiness
for people when they buy houses
and get married and have babies.
I have to do things like sit in
an office at a computer, online banking
and washing up. Why would I want to do those
things when it’s also possible I could be riding
my horse through a swamp and riding a luck dragon
through the clouds while saving from the world
from the great big ‘Nothing’?
Instead I’m hiding
from the great
big ‘Nothing.’
choked by
the ‘Nothing’
always seeking
an alternative.
It would be
easier if the
great big ‘Nothing’
was a deadly fucking
storm instead of
whatever ‘this’ is.
But the fan.
It keeps me cool
and that’s good too.
In this world
that’s good too.