Momo Called


Momo called me at night

it seemed kind of urgent

she said a girl she knows

tried to kill herself

a friend of Momo, very close to the girl

was very sad

I knew the three of them

but I felt kind of relaxed

it’s the same feeling I have

everytime I find someone’s sad,

or mentally fucked

it feels nice, 

to not be the only one

(that’s the kind of person I am)

anyways. as we kept talking

my sentiment of peace, started fading

it transformed to anger, and a bit of jealousy

anger because we got to the conclusion

that she probably wasn’t even serious,

not demons we knew, like ours ghosted her

it had to be a performance, eliminating the value

to me it had at first

and some jealousy too, because of her

perfect body, her ability to had sex

I’m aware she exploited well,

and the way she had the guts

to destroy all she had

and the way she had the luck

of God frustrating her act

(I wouldn’t have been so lucky)



What a cool thing 

is that Fran Lebowitz phrase,

to have a permanent writer’s block

and only write the few times

you are unblocked, as she says

first of all, thanks to capitalism

for introducing me to her

and second, fuck you capitalism

for making me believe I was 

some kind of writer, an artist, or worst,


I’m the kind of person Fran would hate

of course, I won’t even have the opportunity

to be hated by her

cause’ I don’t live in New York

I wish I’d live in New York

thanks money, for creating New York

fuck you money, for destroying New York

PD: I do feel happier after knowing about Lebowitz, 

now I don’t feel strange

for hating to work so much

but it sucks that L.A. made me think,

it was a talent like her’s I had

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