Poems and stuff by Maté Jarai…
Poems and stuff by Maté Jarai…










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.

Leave a comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *