Madened!!

A bit before the dinner, I was about typing one entry. One entry about this and that... the kind of chitchat you make with people who don't know from nowhere, but that start speaking to you in the train or in the bus stations, in the cafe or in the supermarkets.
Christmas and the whole set of celebrations with the New Year are finally over. These days have been annoying me pretty much. I have been smoking quite a lot, because of the lack of mental peace. My mind never stops working, nit even when I am almost fainting after I have smoked a few joints. When I am too highed to even understand what people are saying to me, even then I am always thinking.
Since I was a very young child that I have always had this "tendence" of over-thinking. I remember of being a 3 or 4 years old child, walking the yard of the kindergarten where I was and thinking. When it was raining and we was inside, I was in my corner drawing, although I have always had the guts of interactong with other people. Melancholic states of mind are part of me. Longing thoughts are my fave "dish". 

Then again... I am listening to arab music. Years ago, when a brazilian opera soap woth a few actors playing the role of being a moroccan family, I've learned to enjoy the arabic music. The arabic culture, with a wide unknownside for me, got my respect. And while I am listening to the an arabic song. That same one that I am sharing.
I have thought about about learning to dance the belly dance style. There are men who dance it, there men willing to learn it and I am one of them. And while I am listening to this kind of music, my mind takes me somewhere else. I see one desert and the wind blowing. The sand flies and in the distant horizon, I can see a caravan passing. With another blow of the wind, I am millionaire who rules the caravan, with experient men guiding me and giving me advises. Some of these men, are the same men who put the tents up for the night and are also the me that I have bought for my very own and personal manly harem.
I am in many places. Not all at the same time, but I feel like visiting the arab world, always in an eternal quest. The quest of trying to find my soul and it still doesn't works. My soul can not be found there.

My soul is empty and still I have enough things to say in my poetry. It's all that I got left. I have stopped painting, because I believe that I would manage to straighten up my life and to return to study, that I could learn what was left for me to learn and then I could work without feeling bad for not knowing enough about the art itself and the techniques that I could use.
I doubt of the quality of my poems. I doubt of the quality of what I have to say. I try this and that, but when I get down one level of the language that I use, I always feel dirty. I feel low leveled, so I delete any other thing that I may write, because it hangs too close to the pornographic poetry, without a careful, eroticized language - it's straight to the point!
I am madened and  am smoking like one madened man!
I ammadened and smiling turns to be a difficult errand.
People ask me to play some cards with them and I say that I am not wanting to. And when I am not wanting to play, it's better that I am left alone. My gambling (without money involved) works much better when I start singing Fado or when I staring a dude's ass, but when I say that I am not in the mood, it happens tha my gambling won't work. And it ain't worked tonight!

I want to leave this wicked place.
I want to go to the desert of my dreams and fantasies.
I am not a millionaire. I can not order a caravan wth experient guides and I don't have money to bu the men for my manly harem, so all I got left are my dreams, my fantasies, my writings and a few files about self-publishing on Amazon.com to read. I should have read them before, but it ain't been the errand that I got done. I haven't done this yet. Of three files,  only read the first one and I got the second one to go through, after re-reading the first one. I also have a free e-book to download, which is the third file that I got to read.
I need to work on this. I need t fill my mind with this knowledge. And I also am in the need to search the web to get some help with the wicked poetry's structure, as I am someone who writes poetry as a "sport", without a true knowledge about it!
I need to improve my knowledge.
I need to improve my soul and my creative life!
I need to dream more and to let go of my fantasies in my writings. It'll be the best way to go through them.
A few months ago, I went back to the chat for gay men where I used to go. And tha Egyptian boy told me that my fantasies with him were like pieces of fairytales. So why not to write them down? Why not to unleash another genius in a rusty lamp or in a bottle of crystal? Why not to fly in a magical carpet, under the starry sky? The sand storms would mean nothing, as they were outside and I had a few male belly dancers within my palace. Rich and gay and bisexual men would come to see the dance shows of my dancers.

Sitting in an imposing chair, I would assist to the shows. I would see those rich men paying their bills to watch my men dancing and to listen to the musics that the composers woud compose for us.

Smoking my cigarettes, my joints or the shisha, those rich men, would try to delight me with other dancers. With their money, they would try to buy nights and nights with me. They would try delight and amuse me. I would get richer and richer. I would create a huge army. My army and I would cross the deserts.
And my never ending fantasies would be a real thing. And not even then I would feel less mad and less lonely.
And not even then, I would wish and desire and crave for anything greater!