Prelude to oblivion

Amsterdam, 24 Sept. 2012.

Most times I feel like the mad scribbling of my chaotic mind are a prelude to oblivion, or maybe publishing them on the sacred internet like a digital blasphemy but still the sort of stuff I tell the ladies downtown when I am hunting for nighttime partners to keep the demons at bay and a warm female body in my bed, something to snuggle up to upon waking....

Strangers in the night meeting somewhere in a dark brown Amsterdam cafe, feeling the same sort of loniness and physical longing, a bit like inter gender based search collectives, never been to the husbands, wives, children sort of routine so familiar for many working stiff's unadventureous type of life...

Or maybe the other way around...

With good old Mokum full with singles, every nationality of the world living in small and dingy illegally rented overprised rooms, the height of the rent just as illegal as the occupant, a lady like Michella who works as a dishwasher  and Mhe Baan room cleaning lady in a certain well known hotel not all that far from the central railway staion and is desperately looking for a Holland man to take care of the paperwork, five years of devoted marital bliss in exchange of a legal status...

I can hear it in her voice, I can detect it in her mannerism, sense it overwhelmingly in her dark black shiners when she looks me in the eyes, prepared to invest in a 2.80 Euro glass of red wine to keep my attention focused...

The adults only game is indeed a game with both sides wanting something important from the other but who is getting what remains the question...

Getting Michella on the back of my rusty old bike might well be a prelude to the oblivion of my singel state of life, or maybe just company for the lonely night and a new model in the morning...