No refunds from the devil

Holland, Amsterdam,

A simple pill is all it takes, mental sanity and physical well-being, eternal medicine ensuring you the continuation of your unhealthy ways, days of fire that turn into heavy rain in the dreaded morning after...plain and simple sleep will do that sort of thing to you, brought about by a little colored pill going down a Farang throat that is well lubricated by the Holy Presence of Red Wine...

But Then in the end these dreams of verbal thunder have become a certain reality, a strange sort of comfort hard to do without, the voices of Hot Momma contacts the world over who do a serious job on my sence of empathy, making me remember the luck of being carried by a Rich West woman though she too was only a peasant's daughter with hardly any education, whose main entertainment was her daily cup of Java, whose only foreign trip a ten day school excursion to Paris in her teens, marrying my father a certain way of ensuring her pension which she never reached.....someone who would hardly be capable of grasping the enlightenment of life in far away regions of this crazy world...a black and white TV screen showing scenes that might well come from a unknown alien planet for all she knew...blissfully unaware how one of her offspring whould end up in these alienated places, getting involved, getting emotionally surrounded by stories and real life experiences....

Reflected transgressions so much different from her Nasi invader stories she told me when I was a child, German soldiers being drafted and drinking home brewed coffee in her parental farm, shitting themselves when thinking of the planned Allied Invasion...she could still remember the smell of their leather boots, she told me...

But then their are no refunds from the devil, all of us responsible for our own actions and deeds...not unlike the Polish fortune seekers frequenting the Tweede Mijl, dressed in shabby clothes and always on the hunt for bottle deposit money, change left behind in the parking Automaten...a few quarters for more booze... I guess they too will come back in my dreams in time to come provided I will drink my coffee here long enough...

No refunds from the devil, colored pills a way out but maybe better flushed down the toilet bowl and bow deeply to my own responsibilities...or else to the voices of Hot Mommas hassling my dream world...