nauseating & lives
woke up from a 3 hours hallucination induced sleep, been working day and night so to please the capitalist reward machine
Until I can get that lucky strike, JACKPOT, ~ DING DING DING.
feeling nauseated and exhausted but have plans I need to get to, they say lemon helps with nausea so had to suck some, sour but unstoppable
Scrambled eggs on stale bread breakfast of champions the american way just like how daddy benjamin likes it, or at least the only thing between me and the void. Swallowed it whole like a man who forgot what taste feels like.
Then out into the furnace.
No destination in particular, just forward motion because stopping means the heat catches up to you and the heat always catches up.
Addis Ababa in this weather is a desert masquerading as a city. The land stretched out barren and cracked, cattle slumped like discarded furniture, people moving through the streets with the vacant expressions of soldiers who’ve been marching too long without orders.
This is what they built. This bleached out, breathless purgatory where the sky itself feels complicit.
Nauseated lives under nauseating skies, everybody running on fumes and pretending it’s normal.
It’s never fucking normal. It’s just familiar. It’s become a routine for most, ever so slowly getting dragged out to the shore by the waves coming from the overlords.
It’s so fucking suffocating, and nauseating.
May Day, 2026 the workers of the world are supposed to be celebrating today, but all I see is another batch of zombies shuffling through the heatwave, eyes glazed over, marching to a drum nobody remembers the rhythm of. Is it the national anthem maybe or maybe not, I do not know. for all I know is that.
They tell you it’s your day. Your rights. Your dignity. Kiss me? HUH? I like being kissed when I am getting fucked were the lines of Sonny Wortzik in dogday afternoon where they were bullshitting him right to his face. The only thing we own is this nausea, this low grade fever in the blood that never quite breaks.
But we keep walking. We always do. Cause what the fuck else can we do?. The road doesn’t care if you’re exhausted. The road just stretches out, indifferent and shimmering, daring you to collapse.