Chapter 2

The House of mirrors

Eternal reflections

The house of mirrors on road 65, was my new set for life, I trembled into a web of social demanding, kiss this, fuck that, no time for eternal reflection, just shoot the moment with the ease of the morning breeze, deceive and you shall conquer, the kingdom at the end of the karma street.

Happily ever after, don´t think so, in the afterlife there are no guardian angels or heavenly servants, there are just a set of lies, born from the guilt of a shallow life, and there are no redemption or luxury sweats at the hills of what comes after.

The morning fog, that puts drops on my windows, but never says hi, has decided to attack my sense of affection, in a house of mirrors everything is a reflection. When should I leave? Where should I go? In this shallow world that demands social rites for passage I can clearly see that I’m not the piece that fits this postmodern puzzle.

I´m on my fourth whiskey, soon I will be pissing in a jar, trying to fuck the sadness from winning a brand new car, I regret what will come in the morning after, but I was never settled with idea of reaching for the stars. I´m a drunk and an addict for habits, I live with this rented soul, so that I never have to be in charge. When it’s worn out I just bring it to the dumpster, next to the playground of consumption.