tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21706517561615106092024-03-04T20:21:31.857-08:00The Men's Room BlogRaunchy yet poetical account of what real men think about, hate, crave and secretly conspire against while spending instants at the men's room. Hermes Coldwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12640141421353880341noreply@blogger.comBlogger32125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2170651756161510609.post-1984774943447617052022-04-01T15:39:00.004-07:002022-04-02T11:44:53.603-07:00Pee Gasm<p><span style="text-align: justify;">At this point in my life, I had caught on with all that was in. So, I would regularly watch videos online. </span></p><div style="text-align: justify;">How to cook Chicken Masala, how to improve the productivity of my employees, and how to grow organic tomatoes using UV lights. Sometimes, I would watch more serious stuff like philosophical debates about masculinity and cleaning one's room. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Some other times I would watch videos mocking the Woke agenda, and how stupid we all were for jumping on the bandwagon of Cancel Culture. I would occasionally engage with pseudo-SJWs on Twitter. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">These motherfuckers were really annoying. I mean, next to the Woke mob, they were almost alike, if not the same type of scum, but they would use dirty tactics more than the wokes. They would find my other social media accounts and go and discharge large amounts of hate under the pictures of my cats on Instagram. They were spineless fucktards. But, I somehow enjoyed the dopamine shots when my friends came to my rescue and liked my replies, and of course, dislike the vitriolic comments left by these extreme feminist incels who often identified as They/Them/We/Us/TeamUSA.</div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">And of course, I would also watch videos on how to increase the pleasures in life.</div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">So while checking videos about those little pleasures in life, I ran into the "Pee Gasm", intended for women only. "Women only?", I thought. “When you have downward pressure from the bladder on the shaft of the clitoris and there’s a sudden release of this pressure, it can cause those nerves to fire off,” The YouTuber said. “These nerves firing off is what gives women that tingly orgasmic feeling.”</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">This is so goddamn sexist! I had to find a way to see if this would apply to men too and spread the word. Pissing was not a female-only thing.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">So, the next time I had to pee, I was ready for it. I knew the steps of the scientific method by heart. I was ready for this to be a grandiose thing.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Once the bladder is full the experiment is ready to begin. To urinate, your brain signals the sphincters to relax. Then it signals the muscular bladder wall to tighten, squeezing urine through the urethra and out of your bladder.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I had swallowed lots of water, tea, and coffee. I wanted my bladder to fill as fast as possible so that I could begin testing my new hypothesis. This was huge! If I could discover that the Pee Gasm in guys was possible, I would never have to wait to go home to have an orgasm. I could have an orgasm every time I pissed. In the office, at the bar, at the airport, even in church! Fuck fighting with straight people defending the Trans community, just because they thought watching Rupaul's Drag Race and finding it amusing meant they were allies and were entitled to bully people online.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">This was fucking great! I could even start my career as a YouTuber and teach other guys how to have Pee Gasms! I was so excited.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The time had finally come. My bladder was full and my brain was telling me I had to go to the toilet and release the golden rain all the liquids I had ingested had turned into. I was more than thrilled to piss. Like never ever before.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I wanted to enjoy every single moment of the experiment. So I sauntered out of my office and into the toilet. I bet I had that confident smirk drawn on my face as I moved towards the toilet. I opened the door and stepped into the little toilet cubicle that was the farthest from the one designed to host people from my office, I wanted total privacy. What if it was really pleasurable and I moaned and screamed? That was something that I wanted to keep to myself, at least for now. Later, I would make a video and put it out on the internet for everyone to try. But for now, it was mine to test drive.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I locked the door behind me. I unzipped my pants. I took my dick out and pointed it directly at the deep end of the toilet bowl. You have to be a man to know what I am talking about. I aimed and waited. I waited until the very last moment. I imagined my favorite song was playing. And I was at the club. The music was loud and the people were enjoying their Friday night. I began vibing as if I could really listen to that song.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I thought how much I liked that feeling of being tipsy and heading to the toilet of the bar, or the disco. And sharing the time and space with other people feeling exactly the same. What a wonderful thing to share in silence. When you don't have to express your feelings but secretly everyone around you is experiencing the same exact thing.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Before I noticed, I was done with my first attempt to feel a Pee Gasm. I loved the fact that I was able to travel away from the working environment and into the wilderness of a nightclub toilet. And feel the music and see the silence and enjoy the slow-motion from the strobe lights.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">My experiment was a success. And I soon forgot about my YouTube dreams and my Twitter wars. All I wanted was to piss. Not only was the physical feeling great, but also I found that the seconds I spend getting rid of the urine, gave me enough time to think about things I had never considered.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I had been sold to the infection. No need for anyone's sympathy. So beautiful and free. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I had finally found the Life Drive. And I was close to discovering the Death Drive.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1ZwArUQUQupai9bVX4yztGegiDU_xxVmcxbYYLdJwXBcwDrzjQ35Lhh2PBWOphKrZqoN6FvVQSD4qt4cKcyEOoZZqEZchCQACB1IUZq0NRxqSnGpD9y_FH6UISR2UacCdyynJUIvkNeuag1yKaUCCQWK350L2PWhagPkRad9vfqrW3uw0jWLbObE9/s2048/IMG_7931_jpg.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1ZwArUQUQupai9bVX4yztGegiDU_xxVmcxbYYLdJwXBcwDrzjQ35Lhh2PBWOphKrZqoN6FvVQSD4qt4cKcyEOoZZqEZchCQACB1IUZq0NRxqSnGpD9y_FH6UISR2UacCdyynJUIvkNeuag1yKaUCCQWK350L2PWhagPkRad9vfqrW3uw0jWLbObE9/w300-h400/IMG_7931_jpg.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Hrms Etc</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">1.4.2022</div><br /><div><br /></div>Hermes Coldwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12640141421353880341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2170651756161510609.post-34738223967447072912022-02-05T13:14:00.006-08:002022-02-05T13:14:54.503-08:00Midnight Pissing<p style="text-align: justify;"> It was yet again another sleepless night. And all I wanted was to drown the time in booze. It was better than just counting the minutes away. Anything was better than just letting time slip by. And that included drinking.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">I never considered myself an alcoholic. Or addicted to the nectar of the gods. Even though I constantly thought of having a drink. But instead, had chosen cigarettes over anything else. From the point of view of convenience, cigarettes reigned divine. You could easily find a nice shaded spot and light one cancer stick and get rid of all the stress and anxiety for 32 more minutes. Convenient and quick. It only took about 5 minutes of my busy day. And I was ready for more of what life had in store for me.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">I was never a neurotic person, at least not in public. I had gained experience on certain techniques to deal with that part of my personality when I was around others. Yes, I had become excellent at hiding that personality trait from others. I mean, from time to time, it was quite obvious that the situation called for me to act nervously, somewhat of a fusspot. And that was ok too. I didn't mind it at all. After all, I had realized that people will judge you anyway.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">I moved away from my bed and headed to the kitchen. Put a jacket on and opened the door to the balcony and shut the door behind me. I lit a smoke and reached for a nice chilled bottle of beer that I had placed there to get them naturally cold. It was a common practice in the cold days of winter and autumn where I lived. That and potato salad. But I guess you could do without a fridge during these times too. So basically, I just used my balcony when I wanted to smoke, cool beer down, and grow tomatoes in the spring and summer.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">It was a Saturday, well into midnight. I opened the beer with help of my lighter. The bottle cap flew out of the window and fell on the neighbor's garden downstairs. "Shit", I thought, this is the last thing I need, another notice posted everywhere on the building scolding an unknown culprit of littering the poor neighbor's garden with cigarette butts, bottle caps, and other shit. But, oh well, I didn't really mean for the cap to pop off in the wrong direction now, did I?</p><p style="text-align: justify;">I began puffing my Blue Camel's delight and took sips of beer. I puffed again and again. I was a bag of nerves. I didn't know why or what was going on. So I gulped down on my pilsner and lit another smoke. I was clearly having a nervous breakdown. Was it because the sleep deprivation was kicking in? Was it the fact that I had to stay in isolation for the next 5 days? Was it the fact that I didn't have any friends and my act had caught on me?</p><p style="text-align: justify;">I felt an incredible urge to piss. Was it the beer? Was it the cold? Was it the fact that in a normal night, my bladder would wake me up at around this time to release all the liquids I had ingested before attempting in vain to fall asleep?</p><p style="text-align: justify;">I gently put out my cigarette. I didn't want to damage it in case I wanted to light it up again later. I put the empty beer bottle on the floor and moved into the kitchen. I closed the door behind me and walk towards the toilet. I didn't have to unzip my pants. I loved the freedom that only my pajamas could provide. I took my dick out and began pissing. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">Pissing is one of the greatest feelings we have the pleasure to experience in this life. And, I realized then that all the anxiety and stress I had experienced earlier, all went away. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">"I am cured", I thought while shaking my penis to get rid of the excess urine. I felt a tremendous relief. And with that a strong need to go back to bed and finally sleep.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgFu_obgHKzHSdUeVtldNu_QY5t7SVJD-F26p0iq9mpBsYnBuHfT0O7yHdV8gpU5WvAj412FOnIqfQ1m5Aw4SXevvITTWsF0n6PWmuugkUxFjp_ZTl6d3dnwTDfyugj3qD46PfbBGaf0l9DooO-FTKFPziOZeIKe5X6qKKqfQ9yfRXFRqZ5ZbAOeiZBgA=s3088" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3088" data-original-width="2316" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgFu_obgHKzHSdUeVtldNu_QY5t7SVJD-F26p0iq9mpBsYnBuHfT0O7yHdV8gpU5WvAj412FOnIqfQ1m5Aw4SXevvITTWsF0n6PWmuugkUxFjp_ZTl6d3dnwTDfyugj3qD46PfbBGaf0l9DooO-FTKFPziOZeIKe5X6qKKqfQ9yfRXFRqZ5ZbAOeiZBgA=s320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Hrms Etc</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">5.2.2022</div><br /><p><br /></p>Hermes Coldwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12640141421353880341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2170651756161510609.post-69934099911843791212021-06-11T17:03:00.003-07:002021-06-11T17:03:19.177-07:00Monsters<p> I was somewhat cynical. And rejoiced in the fact that I never went with the flow. No matter what others would say, I would always question them. Sometimes to their discomfort. Until they found a way to neutralize my ways. They began calling me a conspiracy theorist. Title that I enjoyed. Until the day that they began dismissing me based on the title I thought I had proudly earned. </p><p>They were smart. And I underestimated them. I never thought that they would outsmart me and enjoy it They had become me, in a twisted way.</p><p>No matter what the current event was our topic of discussion, they would find a way to castigate me. I had fallen down the rabbit hole and I couldn't get out of there, at least not without my integrity damaged and sore.</p><p>Even the most trivial talk would end up with me being scarified as the holy lamb. My opinions didn't matter anymore. They would dismiss me almost instantly. And they enjoyed it. I didn't know what to do. What to say or do. It didn't matter. I was their sacrificial lamb, their favorite scapegoat and they had come to like it. </p><p>Until that day. When I had had enough. We were at our local pub. And the news dictated our conversation. A young politician was now being blamed for taking advantage of his young female followers. They saw his profile on Tinder and they were shocked when he asked them for nudes. Then years later, they anonymously called him out on twitter. </p><p>"Spineless scumbag bitches" , I said</p><p>"Well, from his position of power, he shouldn't have done that", one murmured.</p><p>"Fuck that shit", I said, "and you are supposed to exchange book reviews over that sex app?", I fired.</p><p>"He is a powerful dude, he used his position to lure the gals", my friend said, "they froze because he is a politician"</p><p>I laughed out loud and said: "You're mature enough to go on such an app and then you make false anonymous accusations on twitter because someone asked you for a tit pic?, that's ridiculous.</p><p>My smartass friends were waiting for me to be fired up to shoot me. They had gained some skill. They would bring something juicy up. Then they would let me dissect the issue and then they would try their best to discredit me by calling me a fanatic, a liar and a cheat.</p><p>The beer had been abundant and my bladder was more than full.</p><p>I had had enough of my friends attacks and attempts to shut me up. So I stood up and without any announcement, i headed to the toilet.</p><p>The way to the urinals was darker than normal. But I knew the way.</p><p>I had walked the same way for many nights before. I knew the way like the back of my hand. </p><p>I rushed, as the piss wanted out and I wasn't going to give my friends the pleasure of me pissing my pants.</p><p>My friends, yeah right, what a bunch of assholes. I loved them.</p><p>I pushed the door open and walked into the toilet. The place was empty and you could hear the running water of each other the three urinals on the right. </p><p>Nobody was there. My favorite setting as I had a shy bladder. Ran to the urinal on the far left and unzipped my pants. Took my dick out and began pissing the many beers I had drank earlier. It was orgasmic, and anyone who has ever pissed can tell you how good it feels to piss after a lot of drinks. </p><p>Out of nowhere, this super tall hairy guy appeared next to me and in a condescending way look down on me.</p><p>He said: "Your friends are real pricks", and with a diabolical smile released a river of pee. </p><p>"Yes", I replied. </p><p>"Wouldn't you like them to stop bullying you?"</p><p>"Well, of course, but that's the way they have grown to be", I said.</p><p>"Would you like them to stop right now?", the tall hairy figure asked me.</p><p>"Well, yeah" I replied, "what's your name, I like you. You're kinda cool", I said</p><p>"I am Mephisto", he replied.</p><p>That was the last time I saw my friends.</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZJfl0K-FDFe85Iahq4icipoDy4OUSdO-VPD1IoFqeyAMgWJ7xe67_qbEduxcy2UH2jxvBUTJaDrF2ensip1mjo_u9Fc232iBB1y2HoPt3p2W2H2QKr4ZQx9gk1ySYlvgjZx-bHhb-yjKG/s2779/blog+photo+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2779" data-original-width="1131" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZJfl0K-FDFe85Iahq4icipoDy4OUSdO-VPD1IoFqeyAMgWJ7xe67_qbEduxcy2UH2jxvBUTJaDrF2ensip1mjo_u9Fc232iBB1y2HoPt3p2W2H2QKr4ZQx9gk1ySYlvgjZx-bHhb-yjKG/w163-h400/blog+photo+1.jpg" width="163" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Hrms Coldwell</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">12.6.2021</div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Hermes Coldwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12640141421353880341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2170651756161510609.post-65494759465651005682018-12-11T14:49:00.000-08:002018-12-11T14:54:04.758-08:00The Sounds Of Pissing III<div style="text-align: justify;">
It had been months since I could have a good night sleep. I used to fall asleep as soon as my head hit the soft goose feathered pillow. But something changed that night. I would stare blank at the white ceilings. With heavy eyes and sore thoughts the nights would roll out.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
All I wanted was to fucking fall asleep. I didn't care if I had nightmares or if I just slumber for a while.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I had tried it all. I ran as fast as I could to get my body as tired as possible. I had tried masturbating. I had smoked joints. Nothing seemed to keep me from being awake. I was slowly rotting inside. I could feel death calmly creeping underneath my bed as I laid still.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Was it the secrets? Was it the rain outside? Was it the full on booze nights I spent trying to black out?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I kept drowning in a sea of empty thoughts and eternal seconds. I was so empty.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Time passed and the bodily urge of pissing reminded me that I was awake. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Like a glitch in my system I hypnic jerked out of bed.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I rushed to the toilet. My dull self crawled in a lackadaisical fashion.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Once in the white room, I lowered my pajamas pants, and took my member out.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I leaned against the wall trying to make the whole situation bearable. Silence was golden. Suddenly I began pissing. And the pleasure reminded me that being awake was a blessing nobody really cherished. At least not me until that very moment. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I was more conscious than most people I knew. And I was able to enjoy, in the precarious of my situation, a mundane act.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"And I hope I can live another day", I thought.</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwZceA1lIuN4MOeFX0TSVVlM3TfKU5eyAW1kzffCSR7pHjBZN40LTz-uemIqKULMgx0ZGQyvhgPe7SslsqaaPJEGGNun-M-4Bl2sQgnOxhiRuW4l_lB2YIPAoWzOVIVmLs_iEpt99tPMG0/s1600/57596004_XS.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="235" data-original-width="350" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwZceA1lIuN4MOeFX0TSVVlM3TfKU5eyAW1kzffCSR7pHjBZN40LTz-uemIqKULMgx0ZGQyvhgPe7SslsqaaPJEGGNun-M-4Bl2sQgnOxhiRuW4l_lB2YIPAoWzOVIVmLs_iEpt99tPMG0/s320/57596004_XS.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
Hermes Coldwell</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
11.12.2018 </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<br />Hermes Coldwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12640141421353880341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2170651756161510609.post-3074411370384351952017-12-31T10:02:00.000-08:002017-12-31T11:12:53.491-08:00A Pissing Nightmare<div style="text-align: justify;">
It was December 31st. Everyone was ready to party and ready to leave the year 2017 behind. It had been a year that took so much away from us. Not only had a bunch of people committed suicide, but the year's political and social events had taken a toll on everyone, including me.</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I was already sipping on my second vodka with peach juice. There was something about this juice that reminded me of home, my long time forsaken home. The sugar and added chemicals of this particular brand of beverage always reminded me of my years in high school. I guess I was happy to have found this particular drink, to mix with the Russian vodka leftovers from one of the summer parties we had had.</div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Everyone was grouped already, and several things were being discussed. Politics, music, and generally shit. I was trying to find the right moment for me to laugh, giggle, of sigh. it was like I was looking for a cue of sort of to interact in a natural way, just to make it till midnight, or until everyone was drunk and possibly high to stop pretending to be the way they all wanted or expected me to be.</div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I remember looking at my phone, just to see the time. To see if my predictions on when would the people around me would become tipsy or even drunk. Just to see how much longer I would have to be there.</div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
My glass was suddenly empty. I moved like a shadow into the kitchen and refilled my tall glass with the potato distillate of the land of the Czars and the saccharine solution we all called juice back home. I didn't even need ice cubes. My drink was perfectly chilled and ready to be gulped down. It didn't really matter. I would pissed it eventually. And I would power walk the carbohydrates left in my system not to gain more weight. Yes, I had began walking a couple of months ago, and I had began seeing the results. At least, I would sleep better, without acid reflux. A good night sleep was what I had secretly longed for already many years.</div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I went back to my assumed position in the party. My group was still talking about things I didn't understand, or secretly didn't want to.</div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"So, we heard you didn't have any friends", someone fired away</div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Uh, I do have friends", I said</div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Good", a girl standing to my right said</div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"I have friends, they just don't live here" I continued, "they are scattered all over the world, one lives in Germany, another one lives in Rio and there is one in Mexico, so I do have friends, they are my best friends, we just don't see each other as often as we would like"</div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Why don't you have friends here?". A guy mumbled across from where I was standing</div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"It is difficult to connect with people with whom I don't share anything in common with", I said</div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"That sounds a bit weird, don't you think?", another girl asked me</div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"It does, I guess, but when you have decided to live things ahead of what you are supposed to, it makes perfect sense. You lose proximity with the rest of the people, but gain a stronger bond with those, who like me, have chosen their own path in life, rather than following what is expected from them, socially".</div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I was having a conversation with the people in the group of party goers. It wasn't a very productive talk, I gathered. However, I was interacting. But after so many Vodka drinks, my bladder was totally full and I needed to relieve it from such burden.</div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I sneaked away from the living room and headed towards the toilet.</div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
As I opened the door, I found myself in a huge room, which was barely lit and had lots of gigantic mirrors above the sinks. Around the place where one is supposed to wash after doing their business —or like me, before actually doing anything, because to be honest, I do not remember all the places where my hands have been— there were the urinals and cabins. </div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
All the cabins were in a pretty deplorable state. There walls, all sported punch holes, and some of them were falling apart.</div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I tried to find one with the best cover, as I am a very shy individual and at least when pissing, I like my privacy.</div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Once I did, I began to unzip my pants. </div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But for some reason, lots of guys came into the toilets and began searching for a place where to get rid of all their alcoholic urine. So in question of seconds, before I had even start, a guy was pounding on the door of the cabin I was in, shouting: "hey, come one, I need to piss".</div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I saw how the other cabins on the right and on the left became occupied and I could see the guys staring at me while they pissed their beer and their liquors. I couldn't even start. I was a shy motherfucker trapped inside a toilet cabin, being watched and being expected to finish pissing real soon.</div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"What a nightmare", I thought to myself.</div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXO4LO65O0qzEZMGBmAnG1FZOAWngJRaGjLep0wm7qatiamTao_NmGzub_gM13_m9HPVZTP3SfnUPa3HfTMrQaj9DblbOkTZCJYw6yVNd3oEhjKOdyl14qi_QzfEQkEODqk5K1cFSymS37/s1600/Rangers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="820" data-original-width="615" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXO4LO65O0qzEZMGBmAnG1FZOAWngJRaGjLep0wm7qatiamTao_NmGzub_gM13_m9HPVZTP3SfnUPa3HfTMrQaj9DblbOkTZCJYw6yVNd3oEhjKOdyl14qi_QzfEQkEODqk5K1cFSymS37/s320/Rangers.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Hermes Coldwell</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
31.12.2017</div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
</div>
Hermes Coldwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12640141421353880341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2170651756161510609.post-72917750930622226772016-06-08T12:48:00.000-07:002016-06-08T12:59:29.555-07:00Holy Shit!<div style="text-align: justify;">
It had been 3 years since my best friend disappeared. The last time I saw him was in Alterna, a bar near my flat which served as meeting point for students from the local university and other entities such as me and my friends.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
We went there every weekend, not only because it was cheap, but because their playlist sounded as it had been created by me, or as if they had cloned my iPod and were playing all what we loved night after night.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It had been 3 years since my best friend had vanished. The last time we were together we drank beer and whiskey sours. We smoked camel blues and puffed on weed on occasion. We had been planning a trip out of the big city as we needed to get away from the stress and the monotony of the every day life we had become slaves to.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I am Terrified by IAMX began playing on the sound system. Chris Corner sang:</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i>I am terrified, I think too much</i></div>
<i></i><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i><i>I get emotional when I drink too much</i></i></div>
<i>
</i>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i><i>I buy every cry, 'cause I don't trust</i></i></div>
<i>
</i>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i><i>I am terrified, I think too much</i></i></div>
<i>
</i><br />
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
We continued to plan. </div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Our master plan began to take form. It made sense, we had to do it, the stress was killing us. I was a little bit stronger than he ever was, yet, that night, I felt as if we were in sync and we were meant to do this. </div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Two more shots of Jack arrived at our table and we swallowed them without mercy.</div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I have to pee, he said</div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Yeah, I replied</div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And Hermes went to the toilet. And I sat there, waiting and staring at my phone waiting for someone to ring, text or something.</div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i>I'm so empty</i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i>You're all I'm thinking about, about</i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i>Oh oh, about, about</i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i>Oh oh oh, about, about</i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i>Oh oh oh, about, about</i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I'm so empty sang Shirley Manson, She sang until her voice faded away and her next streaming single hit the sound system.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I sat there and sipped on my beer. I played candy crush and liked some shitty pictures on Instagram. I even endorsed some shitty abilities of people on LinkedIn.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I sat there for some time. A new beer soon appeared on my table. Shirley Manson has stopped singing long ago. And there I had drunk a lot of beer. So I decided to hit the toilets and release the pressure. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I stood up and tried my best to walk straight. I didn't want people to know that I was feeling tipsy and that I couldn't handle my alcohol. I made it to the entrance door. Then I continued to the toilets.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I pushed the door open and walked in. I looked around and the place was empty. Nobody was there. All the doors to the toilet were open. I was all alone in there. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I couldn't hold it any longer so I jumped to the urinals and unzipped my pants.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And as I was doing my business I saw it.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
On the wall mosaic. A pink square. Amid the rest of them all. And I remembered Hermes saying that the one pink square had been calling him out.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I finished pissing. I shook my penis. My friend was gone.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz-TElVJSsc7XTWIuvCAfxxRE4Uudv-BziaTDY8KaaaVzobeyz2Fv28jGHvnWrRsUle5CgvT4HBEH7R4g6lQ3zLk6p93fkLN1T39Aofjafizr3SU2uG-bPBsa5FB7Q5Y03_kfkqoLuCHmd/s1600/2016-06-08.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz-TElVJSsc7XTWIuvCAfxxRE4Uudv-BziaTDY8KaaaVzobeyz2Fv28jGHvnWrRsUle5CgvT4HBEH7R4g6lQ3zLk6p93fkLN1T39Aofjafizr3SU2uG-bPBsa5FB7Q5Y03_kfkqoLuCHmd/s320/2016-06-08.jpg" width="179" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Coldwell</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
8.6.2016</div>
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span id="goog_619444412"></span><span id="goog_619444413"></span><br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Hermes Coldwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12640141421353880341noreply@blogger.com0Brno, Czech Republic49.1950602 16.60683710000000749.0290597 16.284113600000008 49.3610607 16.929560600000006tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2170651756161510609.post-81892989085544245572016-01-09T16:38:00.000-08:002016-06-08T10:48:52.962-07:00Pissing In The Office<div style="text-align: justify;">
I ran into the toilet. I had drunk the previous night. I was fucking stressed, so I drowned myself in red wine, even though I knew I would wake up horny. I drained the bottle out. I had a few shots of whiskey and some other of jagermeister. All I needed was to forget what had happened at work that day.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
My boss was a bitch and I couldn't´t do anything about it but to swallow my pride and drink to forget. She was a selfish cunt and she knew it. We all did.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
All I could ever amount to do was to kill her in my fantasies. Of course I would never end another human being´s life, but only in my wildest dreams she would meet her maker.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I was from America, the continent, no the country, so really there was nothing I could do to end her miserable life but to pray that she would grow a heart, and a brain, and a soul. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I would find out years later that destiny had something in store for her, but back then all I wanted for her was to die a slow and painful death.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I had woken up to the 5:30 a.m. alarm clock and rushed toward the steamy shower to help myself disguise the stench of alcohol coming out of morning meat suit.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
After the morning coffee and my morning song, to help me go through the day, I arrived at work. I dreaded to meet my boss face to face. She had always something nasty to say to me like: oh you´re so short, like a midget, or: oh you´re so ugly like my mother.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I always tried to avoid meeting her. But that day I didn´t even have to try. She was not anywhere to be seen. So, I walked straight into my office.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I did everything what I had to do on that day. I emailed my clients. I called them. I smiled and laughed.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
She was not there.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
She must be ill, I thought. Fucking Bitch, She was sick and she didn´t let us know. She always broke protocol.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It didn´t matter, I was hungover and I had diarrhea, so I had to go to the toilet. God damn the red wine!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
As I was sitting there, minding my own business, until I hear them.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Shut the fuck up! A random guy said.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I won´t say anything, my boss cried.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
You fucked us so much already, he said.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Agh...her voice was muffled, as if her mouth had been violently covered.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Another manly voice said: You have been so nasty to me. All I wanted was your love, and all I got was your most horrible side.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I nodded. I knew what he was talking about.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
He went on to call her several things.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I sat there in the small cubicle. I sat there until all the raucous had ended. And she was gone.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Thank God, I thought. The most negative person I had ever met had left the building and I was happy.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiChlanqBYCq1bOPh_T_ICB3fbS5xWCY8lXOlNUe8fX1l6rNaM9JKpk27248RmM134dLffa_H-TWIVi8moeFoR65ikOArNfmU_PSxCSdUPE0P3FWiighQsGsVSV6Kjx7e5hABlqzSzc47Um/s1600/LBC-gents-toilets.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="230" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiChlanqBYCq1bOPh_T_ICB3fbS5xWCY8lXOlNUe8fX1l6rNaM9JKpk27248RmM134dLffa_H-TWIVi8moeFoR65ikOArNfmU_PSxCSdUPE0P3FWiighQsGsVSV6Kjx7e5hABlqzSzc47Um/s320/LBC-gents-toilets.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Hermes Coldwell</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
10.01.2016</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Hermes Coldwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12640141421353880341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2170651756161510609.post-6384375347907305572015-10-30T13:06:00.001-07:002015-11-05T12:03:44.884-08:00Don't Hold The Wall<div style="text-align: justify;">
It was a rainy night. A rainy Friday night. And as usual I met with my friends. Out for beer we went. I have never cared too much for the kind of place I go as long as the company brings something that loneliness cannot just give you. A good company is a good company in heaven and in hell.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It was 8 in the night. I was ready for drinking the night away. I was ready to create new moments and recall old stories. I was ready and so were all of my friends.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
We met under the clock, near the tram stop. Quick smoked our cigarettes and teased each other in our own very sarcastic ways. Marketa had a bottle of white wine with her. She offered us to sip on it while we walked towards the stop. I took several hits despite the fact of having a strange dislike for white wine. It was 2009 and some of us talked about the summer hits. The new, the good and the bad.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Music talks were great when Marketa was around. She loved the Killers. In fact she loved <i>a </i>song by The Killers. I liked the band so we often played them on the jukebox. She also liked Oasis. Not just one song, but all of them. Probably the biggest fan of Oasis that I had ever met.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
We were about 15 people. A cluster of eagerness and fading youth heading to a new place. As long as they had a jukebox and good beer the night would unroll nicely and easily. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
We continued to drink from Marketa's sweet little bottle of wine while we were on the tram. And soon we were there. Magda and Erik rushed towards the door and we followed.</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
We entered a placed called The Cop Bar. I can assure you that all I was expecting was a place full of barflies and lowlife cops and maybe a couple of toothless hookers, but to my surprise and everyone else's the crowd was somewhat similar to us.</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
One beer, shouted Marketa.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
One for me, said Erik.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I want a glass of wine, said Magda.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The rest of us ordered beer, like the good guys we were. The night had officially begun.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
As we drank beer, shots and wine, Marketa would stand up, walk to the jukebox and insert a coin to continue playing her favorite Oasis song. It was about 10 pm and the I had begun feeling the booze in my system. I wanted to pee. So I excused myself and headed to the toilets of The Cop Bar. The toilet was tiny. It consisted of a sink, a urinal and a toilet seat. The urinal was being pissed on by some guy who in order to keep balance had leaned against his arm which was resting on the wall.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I then walked towards the toilet only to hear a warning from the pissing guy next to me.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I hate pissing in the urinal, he said</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Hmmm right, I sighed</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I said I hate pissing in the urinal, he mumbled again, they make them wrong and when I pee, my shoes get splashed with piss.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
That is why you are leaning over the wall?, I asked </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Nah, I am drunk and I pissed all over my pants, he said</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Oh, well, you can always tell them you were washing your hands and the water pressure was to much that you got all wet.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
That's a good one, I will use it next time, the guy zipped up and left the room.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Poor guy, I thought, he was too drunk that he pissed himself. I have to ask the guys if they have ever pissed themselves. I laughed inside silently. I shook my cock. Concealed it inside my boxers and zipped up. I had to wash my hands, not like that guy before me, what a dirty dude. I stood in front of the sink, I opened the faucet and the water came out stronger than I had thought splashing all over my pants. Yes, now it looked like I had pissed my pants, just like the other dude had. Karma works in mysterious ways, I thought.<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyPlV2J-SsIQ7tKs4Q0BWEo9bQtbZHNqOlSbTwpPTR4D2OrzIVMumiS3Ok-8EXaL6uVpl-I8WVUh4LvG4ZxrmG3UQkptFUIkD95YwTJV6X8JFFsWl9hAQumOd8UPo60Nd0nk3BcglA4RrN/s1600/DSC_0136.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyPlV2J-SsIQ7tKs4Q0BWEo9bQtbZHNqOlSbTwpPTR4D2OrzIVMumiS3Ok-8EXaL6uVpl-I8WVUh4LvG4ZxrmG3UQkptFUIkD95YwTJV6X8JFFsWl9hAQumOd8UPo60Nd0nk3BcglA4RrN/s640/DSC_0136.JPG" width="360" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
Coldwell</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
30.10.2015</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
.</div>
Hermes Coldwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12640141421353880341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2170651756161510609.post-28604770149249809372015-10-09T14:05:00.000-07:002018-04-15T11:22:36.145-07:00I'm Lost Without You<div style="text-align: center;">
"And the world spins by </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
With everybody moaning </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Pissing, bitching and everyone is shitting </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
On their friends </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
On their love </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
On their oaths </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
On their honor </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
On their graves </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
On their mouths </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And their words say nothing"</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div>
Shirley Manson sang while I silently observed the rest of the people sitting round me. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Yes, they knew I was there, yet nobody really cared and I took advantage of my time there to space off. I had had a tough week but nobody cared. They all were immersed into what they thought was better, more interesting, more alive. I continued to mend the holes in my mind after a hectic week in real life.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
"I'm not like them</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
But I can pretend</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
The sun is gone</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
But I have a light</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
The day is done</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
But I'm having fun</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I think I'm dumb</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Maybe just happy"</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I never really liked Kurt, but on that day I had to fully agree with him and his dull rhymes and lullabies. I had to get out of there and get fucking drunk. I needed to do something. And I needed to do it fast.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The dark night outside called me. I walked across the main square. I walked and dreamed I was happy. I dreamed I was real. I had been drinking a lot. I was fucking drunk. I took my phone out and began recording what I would be later called as the Night Journey.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
All I wanted was to get away from this all. I wanted to disappear. And I did. And as I walked towards home, I got a call.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
My phone began ringing. I picked up. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Hey, how's it going. The voice said</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It's going well, I just need to pee</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Sure, do your thing, the voice replied</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Yes, I will pee and I will go home</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Sure, whatever you need to do, please do</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Well, it doesn't matter, I can pee and do whatever I want</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Yes, you can</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
You cannot tell me what to do, I fired back</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Of course not, the voice said</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
All I want is to pee and go home</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Of course</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And I don't want to know who you are, I said in a serious way</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Well that is already top late</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
We are home, the voice said.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/rzvVPikBcFw/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/rzvVPikBcFw?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Hrms Coldwell</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
9.10.2015</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Hermes Coldwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12640141421353880341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2170651756161510609.post-69685965205924755622015-05-15T05:39:00.000-07:002015-05-15T05:43:08.391-07:00Pissing<div style="text-align: justify;">
It was Friday afternoon. The typical end-of-the-week time when people get ready to kill the stress and drown the voids in their soul with cheap tequila and BMW shots. Yes, another Friday afternoon to kill the time away and feel like we have become more than what our fathers said we would.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div>
A day in which who you have grown to become doesn't really matter. As you carefully select the crowd you want to hang out with and the place that will serve as a background to your faceless selfies and to your faceless selves.</div>
<div>
<br />
Goddamned Fridays, I hated them. I hated my friends. They lied, The were fake. But on Fridays I am ready to just get wasted. So I don't really care who I am with. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I am the one who puts together the parties. The one who organizes the binge. The one who calls and twits everyone not to miss the drowning.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The drowning, that's what I call our Fridays together. The drowning has been happening since I arrived in this city. Almost 9 years ago. That's quite a lot of drowning and pretend. But it's Friday and no one cares. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I am the master DJ, the king of the booze and the prince of self mutilation and black humor jokes. Like a Hollywood voice over, I always enjoyed saying what the others were thinking. Until last Friday, when I discovered one of them had been pretending to be my friend just to get close to me.</div>
<div>
Just to see if my good life could rub off on her.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
It felt like a knife carving its way into my heart. Like a check with insufficient funds. It hurt a lot.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"Hey",out of nowhere she said to me, "wanna go somewhere more private?", she asked.</div>
<div>
"Sure", I replied, "I just need to go to the men's room. You piss the shit out of me."</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLupU75Q0_QJO1NsEfohsxpp2FNNauDxzNivqQmEpM2nUFjScLMOp9mJE_JGSnucOhdITGvGK04ElL0yroumdr77LCZW2Oco0EN-rKa2emn5QlSX2D1mNqa4CI-DcDtSfCJyVHQH97LX6s/s1600/tumblr_ljdwvljf3N1qcbqgzo1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLupU75Q0_QJO1NsEfohsxpp2FNNauDxzNivqQmEpM2nUFjScLMOp9mJE_JGSnucOhdITGvGK04ElL0yroumdr77LCZW2Oco0EN-rKa2emn5QlSX2D1mNqa4CI-DcDtSfCJyVHQH97LX6s/s320/tumblr_ljdwvljf3N1qcbqgzo1_500.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Dick Pound</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
15.5.2015</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Hermes Coldwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12640141421353880341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2170651756161510609.post-54058633814655059622014-12-26T09:49:00.000-08:002014-12-28T11:25:22.944-08:00Golden Rain!<div style="text-align: justify;">
I followed my friends. My newly sworn friends.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Into the dark we went. They had promised me bitches and lots of alcohol. Sex, drugs and good music.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
White candles burnt everywhere. It smelled like a church. I wasn't sure where I was. Not a church I hoped. All I wanted was to get my rocks off and enjoy this Christmas away from home. I wanted to remember my first time away in a different kind of way.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The music rumbled away from us in such a strange way. We were following a party that was going away. Dying Away.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
My phone began ringing, Someone was calling me. My ring tone was "La Mantra Mori" by Ghost. The song gave our journey a special feeling and it blended with our pace perfectly, so I did not pick up. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
"We Focus On Your Death</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
We Focus On Your Death</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
You Share Not The Blood of Our-our-ours</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Thus We Focus On Your Death"</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Warm and velvety were the walls that chocked us while we walked. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The calling on my cellphone died away eventually, And the sense of belonging dissipated too. We drank and smoke. People around seemed happy. They seemed as if they were getting ready for a massive party.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
We were too dumb to run. To dead to die. And as they tied me up to a stake, I sighed.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
This was never my world, I thought. As they cut my clothes open. This is it, I said to my self.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I am broken and bleeding.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And then my blood dripped down and splashed frenetically on the stone floor. I pissed myself,</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
A last, a moment of joy before dying, I Thought.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdvCJIZpLZdvtV7bFNI8NFFG1JuBdxf9ZZHpG9o1j3fKku6oEvw80XictuMNrq-spN2fhU2Yq8uKMG6W5xgqYV5HuFcA8Hsa4Fa2f5paxL1BynnzyrPAKDVkiPtVR4Sg3_lq2HuWtOwMga/s1600/Francisco_de_Zurbar%C3%A1n_-_Saint_Luke_as_a_Painter_before_Christ_on_the_Cross_-_WGA26077.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdvCJIZpLZdvtV7bFNI8NFFG1JuBdxf9ZZHpG9o1j3fKku6oEvw80XictuMNrq-spN2fhU2Yq8uKMG6W5xgqYV5HuFcA8Hsa4Fa2f5paxL1BynnzyrPAKDVkiPtVR4Sg3_lq2HuWtOwMga/s1600/Francisco_de_Zurbar%C3%A1n_-_Saint_Luke_as_a_Painter_before_Christ_on_the_Cross_-_WGA26077.jpg" height="320" width="258" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Dick Pound</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
26.12.2014</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
,</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
Hermes Coldwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12640141421353880341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2170651756161510609.post-78139325985966416782014-11-29T15:31:00.000-08:002014-12-01T13:50:00.266-08:00If I Could, I Would Hover While He's Making Love To You<div style="text-align: justify;">
I always had a handsome and very well-endowed cock, In Junior High, whenever us boys had our wielding workshop hour, and the ranging hormones would make the teen aged guys show off their cocks, and their masturbation techniques, I was king.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I do not know if it was genetics. I was taller than my father. I had relatively smaller feet than the rest. But my cock was huge and porn-like shaped. They all admired it. But to me, it was a big problem, all puns intended. To fit in the skinny jeans that were in at the time made it impossible for me to sit normally. But I indeed liked the bulge in my crotch. Nicely shaped and apparently, both boys and girls enjoying looking at it.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I had never had any problem with my penis. On the contrary, it had always been an advantage all throughout my life. Until the day I went to visit my best friend in Berlin.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I arrived in Berlin. It was my first time in Europe. I had some friends in the capital of Germany and I was in town for a few days visiting them. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I felt sexy in Berlin. I thought I fit right in. The streets and buildings were all very different. The people weren't as I had always imagined Germans. They were relaxed and somewhat friendly. The autumn leaves were everywhere on the ground padding my every step towards sex, drugs and rock music.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I lit a blue camel up and puffed while I headed down Eisenbahnstraße.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I entered the Black Bar. The only thing that wasn't black were the golden bird cages decorating the tables. Rammstein echoed in the blackness if this place.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
"Der Jüngling steigt den Berg mit Qual</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Die Aussicht ist ihm sehr egal</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Hat das Röslein nur im Sinn</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Bringt es seiner Liebsten hin"</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
My friends were sitting at the very back of the bar. They drank beer and smoked the same brand of cigarettes like me. No wonder why I had chosen them to be my friends. They had been there in my darkest hours. And they had always liked me and I think they also liked to secretly look at my bulge. I didn't mind.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
We drank and caught up with our lives after years of not having seen each other. We drank beer and </div>
Jägermeister chasers. We drank White Russians and talked about how different our lives had become. You see, after High School, the world changes your. You do things that set you apart from the rest and sometimes you cannot related to the people anymore. But not us. We talked about fucking, drinking and drugs,<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
We were a successful bunch that distance could not keep apart. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
We talked about going to a sex club after midnight. We talked about a bar that has a needle dispenser for junkies. And we smoked weed.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I asked my friends about the local costumes and about the food. Sausages and Sour Kraut. Beer and Berlin. Too much drinking had led me to have a full bladder ready to leave my body.</div>
<div>
<br />
So I headed to the men's room. To my surprise, there was only one bathroom. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
A unisex bathroom, that's cool, I thought.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The walls were black, the sink was black and even the toilet was black. But there was no urinal.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So I unzipped my jeans and walked towards the toilet seat only to find a sign. There were no words written, only a stick man pissing standing up crossed out. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
When in Rome, do as the Romans do, I thought. So I sat and tried to piss sitting down.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
What an ordeal. My cock, being porn-like big did not fit inside the toilet with me sitting down.</div>
<div>
<br />
I thought of how horrible it would be for me to catch some disease in my cock for having touched the bowl with my dick.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Fuck, I said.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I stood up and pissed standing.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
What was a guy with a big cock like me supposed to do while taking a leak in a Berlin toilet? </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaw0XCmvEMwbPZHytsUzfG61SIBSRLiIt8dqSLn6sdIYVtZMFrOy_Wm8Rrcq0fB8MlqWwmhpe9IRD3JKqLVPGBnFsGBE5MCDAwgY-N2ah2nsqw1DiSZpV9c8OehoIFzuLhWwiRWnSL0ZT_/s1600/DSC_0167~2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaw0XCmvEMwbPZHytsUzfG61SIBSRLiIt8dqSLn6sdIYVtZMFrOy_Wm8Rrcq0fB8MlqWwmhpe9IRD3JKqLVPGBnFsGBE5MCDAwgY-N2ah2nsqw1DiSZpV9c8OehoIFzuLhWwiRWnSL0ZT_/s1600/DSC_0167~2.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Hrms Etc</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
30.11.2014</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
</div>
Hermes Coldwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12640141421353880341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2170651756161510609.post-22666426667646539922014-10-23T16:27:00.000-07:002014-10-31T05:16:27.702-07:00My First Night In Toronto<div style="text-align: justify;">
I woke up. Face pressed against the white tiles of a Torontonian restroom. My head hurt like a motherfucker. All I could move where my eyelids and my eyeballs. My breathing was out of sync with my heart beat.<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
Fuck, I thought, where am I?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
"Won't someone listen</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Nobody gets in</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
My body's a temple</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
But nothing is simple</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Silence is golden</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I have been broken</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Something was stolen</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Safe in my own skin"</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Silence is Golden by Garbage echoed in my head, I had been in the Government. Everything was coming back.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Vodka and Orange Juice. Yeah I had been drinking that all night, that was for sure. I could smell it on me. It was clear now that I had too much to drink and I was now paying for all my sins.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The sun shone through the windows. It must have been around 10 am. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I could smell puke. Yes, it was puke. A mix of hot dogs, vodka, orange juice and cigarettes. I focused my sight on the floor. I wanted to see why my faced was being pressed against my own will. Fucking gravity. I hated gravity so much right now.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I had been standing by the bar of the famous club in Toronto when tons of people began chatting me up, Soon, the rounds of Sex on the Beach had become more than plenty. And I had to escape somewhere less crowded. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I soon felt something fantastic that can only be understood if you have ever done it. The sun on my skin. I gathered all my strength and turned around. Moving my face out of the puddle of puke was something I should have done earlier. However, the rays of sun light felt so good on my naked body.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Wait, I was naked. How did that come to happen? I wondered.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I was resting on my back. Soon the urge to piss came along. I didn't know where I was and the alcohol in my system wanted out.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I let it all out. And with a sigh came a bang on the toilet's door. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Hey, you have to wake up, I need to take a dump so badly.<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The voice on the other side commanded me to vacate this room and let life go on. But, how could I when I was pissing all over the place.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4aIESPJZAyJUZqyZ2ZkIaM8ofnMlA4A824fy8Ow4b9kKh8kSQPRdHbMRVQaH0Oz_IuBZ3X6QYuQb8I-HSR6pD8vD1pILLh14eQdUifCtR6nlD2d2Oeb9-JBP7eIaqDpHvecjZuZlviWlB/s1600/bathroom-inspiration-cool-white-statuary-stone-tile-octagon-with-black-dotted-flooring-and-square-white-porcelain-tubs-and-toilet-with-white-tile-bathroom-wall-panels-inspiring-small-space-white-bath.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4aIESPJZAyJUZqyZ2ZkIaM8ofnMlA4A824fy8Ow4b9kKh8kSQPRdHbMRVQaH0Oz_IuBZ3X6QYuQb8I-HSR6pD8vD1pILLh14eQdUifCtR6nlD2d2Oeb9-JBP7eIaqDpHvecjZuZlviWlB/s1600/bathroom-inspiration-cool-white-statuary-stone-tile-octagon-with-black-dotted-flooring-and-square-white-porcelain-tubs-and-toilet-with-white-tile-bathroom-wall-panels-inspiring-small-space-white-bath.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Hrms Coldwell</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
24.10.2014</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
Hermes Coldwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12640141421353880341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2170651756161510609.post-88256376302544532632014-08-23T17:51:00.003-07:002014-08-25T03:32:34.341-07:00I will destroy youI headed to the toilet<br />
I took my penis out<br />
I began pissing<br />
The music outside played:<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
"I was born into this</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Everything turns to shit</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
The boy that you loved is the man that you fear</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Peel off all those eyes and crawl into the dark,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
You've poisoned all of your children to camouflage your scars</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Pray unto the splinters, pray unto your fear</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Pray your life was just a dream</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
The cut that never heals</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Pray now baby, pray your life was just a dream</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
The world in my hands, there's no one left to hear you scream</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
There's no one left for you"</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
I remembered all my friends and hoes<br />
<div>
I remembered all my friends and enemies</div>
<div>
I liked pissing</div>
<div>
I liked getting rid of all my father's scars<br />
I prayed my life was just a dream<br />
The cut that never heals<br />
The smile that nonone ever sees</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7NxpqdO0hsWUv9GCztXMQt0fshCMegCnO0yBu-tlXS1Swkeija1-vqbZITyADu5KbRphRwFNk6eet1QS-K9hn0wsY1fn8dandq7upgL5HB3ZI40_u1il_6gYYkHE6MT9nfO2WNaD6swF_/s1600/1609956_10152610765345605_1402345611824049356_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7NxpqdO0hsWUv9GCztXMQt0fshCMegCnO0yBu-tlXS1Swkeija1-vqbZITyADu5KbRphRwFNk6eet1QS-K9hn0wsY1fn8dandq7upgL5HB3ZI40_u1il_6gYYkHE6MT9nfO2WNaD6swF_/s1600/1609956_10152610765345605_1402345611824049356_n.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Hrms Coldwell</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
24.08.14</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Hermes Coldwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12640141421353880341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2170651756161510609.post-36314127778100064162014-08-17T17:18:00.000-07:002014-08-18T07:45:16.497-07:00The Nobodies<div style="text-align: justify;">
I had a friend and he always liked to copy everyone. Big watches and leather. Denim jackets and palladium shoes. Camel smokes and heavy metal. He always liked what he did. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Sad or happy, he was there. Always copying our modus vivendi. Because he could. Because we let him. Because it was in. Because there was no turning back.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
"The toys all smell like children</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And scab-knees will obey</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I'll have to kneel on broomsticks</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Just to make it go away"</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Marilyn Manson sang privately in my bedroom parties. Our friend always mimicked us no mattter what he thought of us. No matter what we thought of him.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
A guitar solo. A poem. A tear. He always did the same. We were one. We were one big mess. Same colors. Same shadows. My walls were red. But we could spot him in the dark.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
"You were my mechanical bride </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
You were phenobarbidoll </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
A manniqueen of depression </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
With the face of a dead star </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And I was a hand grenade </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
That never stopped exploding </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
You were automatic and as hollow as the "o" in god"</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Manson kept singing. Our friend went to the toilet. We waited. He came back. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"How was it?", I asked</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Relieving", he fired back</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"What do you mean?" I continued</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"The darkness left my body", he said.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuxdkYbJtlT8Srd4V5z-IsLSpFs6qCZcQu6lmT_J1rZGtLBXbNz2JX4Ye3HxGoUxBnsndyulgNTy70RAuq0UKWWlwRpEyo3hZp4Tua0gUMjJzRaTWwePPIkwDCsRHAkbFB2Fwk_TG7abL6/s1600/pissing_the_dark_away.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuxdkYbJtlT8Srd4V5z-IsLSpFs6qCZcQu6lmT_J1rZGtLBXbNz2JX4Ye3HxGoUxBnsndyulgNTy70RAuq0UKWWlwRpEyo3hZp4Tua0gUMjJzRaTWwePPIkwDCsRHAkbFB2Fwk_TG7abL6/s1600/pissing_the_dark_away.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Hrms Coldwell</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
18.8.2014</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
Hermes Coldwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12640141421353880341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2170651756161510609.post-47360244141831500112014-04-22T02:31:00.001-07:002014-04-24T02:06:07.541-07:00Go On & Smile, You Cunt!<div style="text-align: justify;">
Waking up to the forever-painful-reminder-of-having-drunk-way-too-much-wine-and-having-smoked-way-too-many-cigarettes-and-more-than-one-puff-of-white-widow was, strangely enough, becoming a habit.</div>
<div>
It was 10:17 am and the birds were singing outside. I could hear their goddamn conversations as if they were sitting next to my left ear. I was always able to hear better with my left ear. It was like when women tell you that one of their tits is bigger than the other, or when serious looking people tell you that they have one arm or leg longer than the other. But for men, it's always the balls. One is always hanging lower than the other 'cuz it's bigger and produces more sperm, so that is why it's bigger and heavier. For me, it was my hearing abilities. I could hear better with my left ear.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I was still drunk, sweaty and I had this strong urge to piss. I could't get up. It hurt to even think. The noise outside felt like atom bombs exploding inside my skull. This had to be what if fells like when you die, or when you are born. Everything was so painful. The light, the sounds, the thoughts. Had I been born again?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I tried to recall the events that took place the night before. I just remembered I had tons of red wine. Fuck, I needed a cigarette. </div>
<div>
<br />
I managed to get out from the painful comfort of my own bed. I looked for a cigarette in a futile attempt to numb myself out of this all. I searched everywhere but apparently i had ran out of smokes. Deep inside my shoulder bag there was an almost destroyed joint. Not what I had been longing for but definitely something I could puff on, and maybe something that would help the pain go away.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I took out my zippo lighter and lit the crooked joint. I began smoking mother nature's remedy.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Soon I felt better. As if I had just begun feeling the booze kick in. It was nice. So I made my way into the toilet. I needed to release some pressure from my bladder. I lowered my briefs and took my cock out. I never liked wearing boxers. I had always liked to keep my cock and balls concealed into a nice bulging shape. Hence avoiding the uncomfortable feeling of my nuts jumping all round when I danced. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I was sweating alcohol. With my left hand I held the joint. With my right one I held my cock. I puffed another white cloud of this miraculous medicine. I looked down and tried to aim my piss at the center of the toilet bowl. I didn't want to miss the spot. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
A nice, almost transparent discharge of piss came out of my cock making me feel somewhat aroused. </div>
<div>
This was the side effects of drinking too much red wine, I thought.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I could smell the alcohol leaving my body in the form of urine. I exhaled what seemed to be a white wind whirl byproduct of the widow I was smoking.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I continued to piss. And as I did, I could feel my cock getting harder and harder. The feeling that you get when your cock is getting bigger, in your hand, someone else's mouth or in your pants, is something so amazing to try to describe it.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I began shaking my dick, as men always do when they are done pissing. All I could think of was my friend's almost wise words: "A mouth is a mouth. As long as a mouth is wrapped around your cock, you don't really care if it's a dude's or a chick's". All I could think of was that I wanted a mouth to suck on my hard cock. Goddamn red wine, I thought. It always makes me so fucking horny. I began to masturbate.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
As I continued stroking I realized that this was not my toilet. And that someone had been standing behind the ajar doors long enough to catch a glimpse of me and my cock. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
A mouth is a mouth, I thought to myself.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Dick Pound</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
4.22.2014</div>
Hermes Coldwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12640141421353880341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2170651756161510609.post-55153070861439149602014-04-15T03:35:00.002-07:002014-04-15T03:35:21.225-07:00Rhapsodizing In The Men's Room<div style="text-align: justify;">
I was ready to go out that night. Friday night. A long awaited time that repeated itself every 144 hours. The week was stressful enough not to focus all my might on the glorious Friday nights. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Ready like any other day I spritzed my favorite cologne all over my neck, chest and finally all over my black leather jacket. I was ready.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Off I went. The red moon shone down on me. Hole's music was my soundtrack that evening. I loved the way the screaming 3-riff master pieces of Miss Love would make me feel when I walked through the darkness when I went drinking.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The first time I heard of Hole was in high school. During my angsty years. I would lock myself inside my own world and write stories and verses. Enjoying every moment of dread and fear. Enjoying the darkest moments of that part of my life. Learning their songs on my guitar and bass and performing each one of their songs just for myself.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I opened the doors of A1. I descended into a loud ever-changing cloud of light, smoke and music. I took my headphones off. Rolled the cable around them and carefully placed them inside my black leather shoulder bag. I paused my iPod and continued to walk down the stairs. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Laser beams illuminated the haze above me and all around me. My friends were waiting for me at our usual table. Like every other Friday night. A nice cold pint of beer was already there waiting for me at my place. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Cheers!!!, we shouted. And the night had officially begun.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
My friends knew that I was a quiet person from time to time. They knew this and they didn't have any problem with me just sitting next to them. I, occasionally gave voice to thoughts and I was glad they would listen and appreciate my short moments articulated clarity.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It was Hole night. At least in my head. The laser beams turned blood red and The Pretty Reckless began playing. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
"Evil knocking at my door </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Evil making me its whore </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I don't mind if you take what's yours </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
But give me mine"</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Taylor Momsem began teasing my brain with her wrecking verses. The night had turned into a mosh pit,a full-on, drinks and spinning heads. The party had just become a Friday night party. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
"How you like me now?</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Did I succeeded in making you proud?"</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I began pissing. The darkness echoed through the walls of the toilet of A1. I was all alone. I could hear the crowd moving to the beat of the rumbling guitars of Momsen. I was all alone. Deep inside my own self. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I like you alright and I am proud of you. I thought to myself.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaEtlulDZZ6zlrqMgT9PmFcLvoj42WpqVpKNO8YcNrRFOJwnAF5YUsD6kY1bEGJSkE3-MUXfh2N8tQ6gVji-7Z9zgOaKIZ7mMKV3Va4Aax7ODU-jGKYMoAjmpSmxXTq9GcqaCMajY6-_UE/s1600/1782113_10152219532860605_1994150335_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaEtlulDZZ6zlrqMgT9PmFcLvoj42WpqVpKNO8YcNrRFOJwnAF5YUsD6kY1bEGJSkE3-MUXfh2N8tQ6gVji-7Z9zgOaKIZ7mMKV3Va4Aax7ODU-jGKYMoAjmpSmxXTq9GcqaCMajY6-_UE/s1600/1782113_10152219532860605_1994150335_n.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Hrms Etc</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
15.4.2014</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
Hermes Coldwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12640141421353880341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2170651756161510609.post-5809464592800743052014-02-17T14:04:00.001-08:002014-03-25T03:21:29.894-07:00Don't Break My Heart<div style="text-align: justify;">
Another night out. Another lover added to the list. I had already made it to the international club. This time it didn't matter. The frustration of not having someone in my bed just to wake up to had led me to ask the direct question: "Would you like to spend the night with me in my flat, no sex, no kissing, just you sleeping in bed next to me. I need someone to spend the night with. I don't want to wake up alone tomorrow. Give it a try, won't you?"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It had worked. And I woke up to the sunlight at around 5 am. My head ached. I craved a cigarette. My flat was quiet. The Saturday morning light blinded my brown eyes. I never lowered the blinds because I was afraid my cats would destroy them. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I felt something warm next to me. I didn't even bother to look at the person sleeping next to me. I had accomplished something I had been longing for too much. Yet I felt empty. I felt like a cheat. It felt wrong. I felt like if I had cheated destiny. It didn't feel right. I had coerced an unsuspecting someone into fulfilling a fantasy, a dark dream. I felt like a vampire. I felt dirty. Even if i had not done anything carnal. I felt like if I wanted to die. I had desired this for way too long. It felt wrong.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I stood up and moved quietly towards the kitchen. I was ready to brew coffee. The morning coffee. I hesitated. I was not ready nor willing to do it this time. It was a move I didn't feel right that morning. So I crept into the bathroom like a shadow escaping the light. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I closed the door shut. I sighed. "If I Was Your Vampire" by Marilyn Manson started playing in my head.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
"This is where it starts.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
This is where it will end.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Here comes the moon again."</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"This is not what I want my life to be all about", I thought while washing my face with ice-cold water. I took a look at the mirror and I saw the sad me reflected in my brown eyes. I saw the sadness. I saw myself. I didn't want this.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I must have stared at myself for way to long that by the time I left the bathroom, I was alone with my cats and my face was sporting an empty smile.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
17.02.2014</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Immanuel Kant</div>
Hermes Coldwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12640141421353880341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2170651756161510609.post-71617721190852466722014-02-17T04:38:00.001-08:002014-02-17T04:38:12.278-08:00Ephemeral, Something Missing<div style="text-align: justify;">
I opened my eyes. I was in the darkness of my mother's house. I couldn't tell the time. It was dark and the only things I could see where the shapes of the furniture that had been unmoved since her passing.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The air had a particular smell. I remembered that scent. I managed to go upstairs without tripping over anything. I was careful and I was afraid I would know something down and break it.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I reached my mother's bedroom. I didn't have to open the door as she never did. The doors to her room were always open. This time was not the exception The doors were wide open as she had never left. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It had been many years since I had been in this place. So many memories. So much love. So much I couldn't move. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Tears began rolling down my eyes. I reached for the lights. I was in the toilet. On the floor. And I was so sad. So many thing I would have liked to tell her. if only I had known that she would leave me. If I had known that, what would I have said, or done to make her happier. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I lit a cigarette. I needed to smoke to make myself feel at least a little bit better.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
A fire erupted from my zippo. It engulfed all the memories and thoughts I had been having. The fire consumed all my suffering and all the longing for being there and when it ended I had been born again. And she was there to hold my hand again. She put my head on her chest. And her heart I heard and felt.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKQ1kbHSFxVTni6AZ8GiLQUs3VjASVlNvyrbAqyGm0cpQPWMXpID-2jZL9lE3qmSbV402c6C4rd4WT9KWCuDMBoL_g2E8f18fcpVYvJeqxdGIpE_mo8xVT4EkUq6mZFdtm4VeLCThOIQjK/s1600/Fire-Hands1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKQ1kbHSFxVTni6AZ8GiLQUs3VjASVlNvyrbAqyGm0cpQPWMXpID-2jZL9lE3qmSbV402c6C4rd4WT9KWCuDMBoL_g2E8f18fcpVYvJeqxdGIpE_mo8xVT4EkUq6mZFdtm4VeLCThOIQjK/s1600/Fire-Hands1.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Hrms Etc</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
17.2.2014</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
Hermes Coldwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12640141421353880341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2170651756161510609.post-29464590486450069032014-01-28T05:05:00.001-08:002014-01-28T05:05:21.426-08:00Let Me Out<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
"All my friends are embryonic</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
All my friends are dead and gone</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
All my friends are microscopic</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
All my friends wake up alone"</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Hole's song began shaking the walls of the bar. The crowd continued to drink. Beer is often a powerful medicine that allows the quiet to interact in ways no one could expect expect. </div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
"Gutless...you're gutless</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
You're gutless...you're gutless"<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Love continued to roar through the sound system. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I was in good company, like most of the times I went out to drown myself in booze. Unlike the rest of them there, drinking as an outlet, was not for me to numb my shyness but to dull the voices in my head. Unlike being in high school and drinking to get fucked up, I learned to drink to get to that state of mind in which I am mostly relaxed. At time quiet and observant.Yet thoughtful and disguised in the shadows of the world.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Courtney's song faded in the blackness of Melodka, the bar I was at that night. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
My companions were almost as thirsty as I was. Another round of beer and Jager appeared on our table and I lit another cigarette. I puffed on it and I exhale a large ever-changing cloud of grey nothingness. And I killed the shot of booze sitting next to my beer in a sigh.<br />
<br />
It had been a long day. It had been a tough day. So I went to empty myself from all the voices, booze and urine. And then I was ready to do it again. I was free and I was feeling good.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjLTtGMJUaVHALcuk6Wh4nTwk3xPwlSDf4PszOD35zEalJFZYJOGlJ2JPtnNul4djMCR_9haAItqdfP_ZKmNHQonMDyn9c7b5PAP8Goh3CSjyaEDZwOK-HZ6F-PbL6dpdOKc90TzBOeflq/s1600/IMG_20140128_140239.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjLTtGMJUaVHALcuk6Wh4nTwk3xPwlSDf4PszOD35zEalJFZYJOGlJ2JPtnNul4djMCR_9haAItqdfP_ZKmNHQonMDyn9c7b5PAP8Goh3CSjyaEDZwOK-HZ6F-PbL6dpdOKc90TzBOeflq/s1600/IMG_20140128_140239.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Coldwell </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
28.01.14</div>
<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
Hermes Coldwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12640141421353880341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2170651756161510609.post-84365760837266107392013-12-11T12:21:00.001-08:002013-12-11T12:22:41.877-08:00Secular Haze<div style="text-align: justify;">
Satanic music played in the sound system. Hypnotic lullabies chanting charming blackness. People in the bar looked sleek and the beer was good.</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
"As the parish sighs in smoke</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Enters the lady revealed of cloak</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
To the haunting sound of the monstrance clock"</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Ghost sang and sang as I drowned myself in booze. The conversation at the table was somewhat uneventful. Harsh politic remarks, religion and the same shit that had become a regular thing to be brought up for many years now. I sat still and continued to drink.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
"Come together, together as a one</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Come together for Lucifer’s son</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Come together, together as a one</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Come together for Lucifer’s son"</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
"Are you a catholic?" Someone asked me.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
"I was born and raised in one of those countries", I replied</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
"Do you mind the music?", he asked </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
"Well", I paused, "I love Marilyn Manson", I continued</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
"Where are you from?" said the man</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
"I believe in God", I said curtly, "Just not the one everyone claims to believe in"</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
"Hmm, you must be happy then"</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
"Why is that?"</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
"You are in one of the most atheistic countries in the whole world", he fired back</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
"Hmm, I am happy here, people seem somewhat spiritual and engulfed into the fires of vice and decadence".</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I stood up and walked towards the toilets. I had been rude, yet again. I didn't care. Not anymore. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I pushed the doors open and walked into the men's room. Full graffiti and a delicate scent of lemon. I started to piss and I was at peace. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIhuNHXVgPJFWkcYSUEwpyygimVzJPBXLewv_Ts2fnNas37T9Q6lPZT9wH-7j3UVi3h_7jSqBopvT7uR8cDJp6-LBEnk-9KaU6TyNmAcKT5SGZCbECbcRnHt3p-ntH6zjdIx08P87KxzKU/s1600/toilet_graffiti_620.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="244" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIhuNHXVgPJFWkcYSUEwpyygimVzJPBXLewv_Ts2fnNas37T9Q6lPZT9wH-7j3UVi3h_7jSqBopvT7uR8cDJp6-LBEnk-9KaU6TyNmAcKT5SGZCbECbcRnHt3p-ntH6zjdIx08P87KxzKU/s320/toilet_graffiti_620.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Hrms Etc</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
11.12.13</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
Hermes Coldwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12640141421353880341noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2170651756161510609.post-89735309552278148982013-06-27T12:29:00.000-07:002013-06-27T12:44:58.761-07:00Beer At The Gay Bar<div style="text-align: justify;">
"One beer, please", I said while looking around, trying to adjust my sight to the dim light and the laser beams cutting the air with a brilliant display of slickness.<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"5 euro", said the bartender, a 30-something man wearing nothing but leather and sporting a hairy chest. I reached for the money into my bag and handed him some coins. "Keep the change", I replied.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I grabbed a stool and sat down. I sat strategically facing the dance floor. After all, it was my first time in a gay venue in Amsterdam, and I was going to enjoy it.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Everything was so different than what I was used to. The people. The tourists, the streets and the rain. I took a sip on the cold beer I had just bought and continued to satisfy my sight with the people sweating to the rhythm of house music.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
My companion disappeared as soon as we walked into Church. I was not looking for him. he was looking for something I did not desired. I just wanted out from whatever life I had been leading until then. I was there to enjoy the view and that was what I was doing. The scene was everything that I had seen in the movies. But, this time I was there.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I continued to drink my beer. I was too high to do more things at the same time. After having washed the dryness of my mouth down with a sip of cold beer I continued to look at the characters in the club. Eye contact was something so easy to achieve in here, unlike in the Czech Republic. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I was high, and I was working my way into drunkenness. The lights, the music and the people there made the whole experience so enjoyable. People danced and moved in such a classy way. Their style was totally different. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"One more beer, please", I said. The scruffy bartender, dancing to the beat of International Love, began pouring beer into two pint glasses. Soon, he put both on the bar and claimed his 5 euro. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Oh, I just wanted one glass".</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Happy hour, two drinks for the price of one", he replied.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
So there I was, with two pints of beer. Sitting and enjoying the show, when my friend, out of nowhere grabs me by the arm and tells me: "Let's check upstairs", so I give him my extra glass of beer and we move into the crowd.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I'm Afraid Of Americans began to play. The lurking eyes of people in the center of this volcano sought to interact with mine. I followed obediently. The lead of my companion jumped from pushing our way out of the multitude to walk in a kind of dance like crawl. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
My friend was good. And he knew it. Soon, all the attention was directed at this little act he had gotten me into. And I wanted to piss.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The beer and whatever else i had ingested that night had worked their way out of me. And we kept on moving. Like the newest freak in the circus. Not that I didn't enjoy it. I did. I tried my best to follow the snake like movements of Glev. I was never a good dancer, but sometimes my ungodly movements would attract some attention.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
We were near the toilets. Out of the sexy mob behind. I saw darkness in the restroom. So I kept on following Glev. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
On the right you could see the stainless steal stair case. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/GLEV.T?fref=ts">Glev </a>stopped and turned around.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"This is the best part of Amsterdam", he said, "well, for me it's a ride", he concluded. He pulled me up the stairs and in less time that it could have taken for me to count the steps up, we were there.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It didn't take long for <a href="https://www.facebook.com/GLEV.T?fref=ts">Glev </a>to disappear, as he always did. He was also often late, but just in time for a big entrance. The laser lights radiated and got caught inside the drops of sweat from the crowd below, reflecting their beauty all across the night.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Instinctively, I followed the sounds that were familiar to me only to find <a href="https://www.facebook.com/GLEV.T?fref=ts">Glev </a>being finger-fucked by a man wearing a blue latex glove. "Fuck", I thought, "I need to fucking piss."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/GLEV.T?fref=ts">Glev </a>was riding some kind of leatherish headless horse, with the right index finger of some guy in his insides. I headed down to the toilets. I the knew I had to piss, but the lack of light of that place kind of scared me.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Once inside, I realized that no one was there. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"What a pity", I thought.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
Hrms Etc</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
27.06.13</div>
<br />
<br />Hermes Coldwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12640141421353880341noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2170651756161510609.post-38563436621038799292013-04-19T04:34:00.000-07:002013-04-19T05:28:33.383-07:00The Sound Of Pissing II<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>"The following is an unreleased interview for Empire Magazine"</b></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
Prague, Spring of 2013</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
One of our reporters managed to get a hold of the infamous artist Hrms Etc, as his fans call him. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
We are sitting in the hotel suite of one of Prague's most expensive hotels. Hrms Etc has asked the hotel staff to decorate his room with several screens, blocking the over-decorated walls and making this room darker and colder. Different things are playing on each screen. We recognize 'House of 1000 Corpses', and 'The Exorcist'. Straight porn, gay porn and nudity on other screens. Alejandro Jodorowsky's "El Topo", is what catches out attention. A series of unnatural shots put together in such a appalling way. A master piece of the spaghetti westerns.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Hrms Etc is sipping on red wine. He is staring at the screens showing nudity. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
We clear our throats and proceed with the long awaited interview.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Empire: How's the wine?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Hrms Etc: Quite good. The fact is that I didn't have to pay for it. So it is better and stronger for that reason. I like red wine. I like it when I feel romantic. I like it when I feel like getting wasted. I like red wine.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
E: That's good. So, we wanna thank you for this interview.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
H: No, thank you for coming all the way down to my hotel in such a terrible weather.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i>It is pouring cats and dogs outside</i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
E: So tell us, What kind of food could you do without?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
H: Hmm, I think I could do without many different kinds of food. For instance, I think I couldn't care less if i stopped eating broccoli.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
E:What's your favorite song at the moment?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
H: Teenage Nosferatu Pussy. It has a funny dark side to it and I just can't stop listening to this one.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
E: What's your favorite vegetable?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
H: I don't have any favorite one</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
E: What's your favorite part of your body?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
H: My dick</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
E: Is there any movie character that resembles your mother or your father?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
H: Well, I think "The Shinning", and I would be the little kid repeating RedRum 32 times.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
E: What do you think when you are pissing in the men's room?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
H: Strangely enough, I like to think that someone is watching me piss. Call it a fantasy. Call it what you want. Sometimes I think that guys in the men's room enjoy the situation and look at other guys' dicks. Women are lesbians by nature. Men like to look at dicks pissing, I think. At least I do. And I know some other men who would agree with me. I do not know whether they just like to stare.Or if they like to compare size and girth. I like counting so sometimes I think I come up with the strangest games. In my head I have to count things. So sometimes when I am in the men's room I like to count how many cocks I get to see. But most of the times I only see mine. That's arousing.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
E: What was the last nightmare you had?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
H: I was in a mall and everybody was shopping.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
E: What do you think of the Boston Bombing?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
H: I think Americans are so good at media manipulation so they make this single act of violence into a huge world wide thing that has nothing to do with more important things that are going on right now. But please compare this with the thousands of people American troops have killed in Iraq or Afghanistan. Boston is nothing compared to what they have done in those two countries. But I feel sorry for the guy who lost his legs and his dick.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
E: Is there any fantasy that you haven't fulfilled?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
H: Yeah, some.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
E: Coffee, black or with milk?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
H: Milk</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
E: Favorite celebrity?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
H: <a href="http://ivanmatousek.tumblr.com/">The Artist</a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
E: Cocaine or E?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
H: Neither</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
E: Thank you very much for your time</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
H: Thank you for yours</div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVJrN8LRM_PUNQusojQU6c2p-yj4_W8IYP9AD8QKdS3jVO7-t22l1CW-KDcDZbdKUMJTsJFDVA2jXQYHxVEVCQw1e1x3fYnx7NpOpbAdX7ytaxlevYJ1enQx6HIRp3Qyq4dJ_dJwh6j24K/s1600/man-pissing-at-urinal.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="202" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVJrN8LRM_PUNQusojQU6c2p-yj4_W8IYP9AD8QKdS3jVO7-t22l1CW-KDcDZbdKUMJTsJFDVA2jXQYHxVEVCQw1e1x3fYnx7NpOpbAdX7ytaxlevYJ1enQx6HIRp3Qyq4dJ_dJwh6j24K/s320/man-pissing-at-urinal.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Courtesy of EM</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
19.4.2013</div>
<br />Hermes Coldwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12640141421353880341noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2170651756161510609.post-19475413697749979752013-03-22T04:27:00.001-07:002013-05-09T02:10:44.778-07:00How To Use A Toilet (Explicit Version)<div style="text-align: justify;">
He would go to work every morning. Always on time. Always wore freshly ironed clothes with the right amount of cologne, not to draw too much attention but to leave a trail of sweetness in the air as he walked by. Every morning he would wake up to the 6:30 alarm clock. Like a Brit always on time. Exact and elegant.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
His day would start up with him walking into the shower and for precisely 9 minutes, he would wash his body. The first thing was to get the water to the right temperature and then he would let it rinse him from head to toes. A gentle squeeze to the shampoo bottle to have just about enough to wash his grey short hair.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
He would continue then with the shower gel. Always a different scent. For he had pretty much all the different available types of shower gel available in the market. He would scrub each inch of his aging body and he would do it in circles as instructed by his dermatologist.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
After ironing his white Oxford shirt and putting his Bedford jacket on he would step into the kitchen to fix himself something to drink before hitting the street like any other normal day. A freshly brewed cup of coffee would get him started. Ready for yet another day at the office. He was calm and never said much.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
One would notice his arrival to the office. He was always a very polite kind of man. A true gentleman.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Good Morning everyone", he would say</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Hello, Dick", the secretary would reply.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"How was your romantic evening with your husband"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Uneventful, he went on to explain to me the benefits of eating meat"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Oh, he still doesn't understand that you will continue with your vegan food, huh?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"No, he refuses to understand that meat is murder"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Well, have you prepared anything vegan for him yet?"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"He won't eat anything healthy, he is all about meat and potatoes, his breath reeks of death"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Oh, And how's everything else?"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Terrible, his cock won't get hard"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Oh my"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"It is terrible. All I want is to have a baby so that I can have an excuse not to work in this shitty place"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Yeah that is a good reason"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"But, Dick, what can I do for him to stop eating dead animals, and for his cock to work?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Have you guys tried going to the doctor?"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Yeah, I go there every week to have my colon cleaned, but he won't go with me. Only my mother understands the importance of having a clean and healthy colon"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The morning coffee would have already kicked in at this point of the conversation. Luckily for Dick, the age and caffeine didn't mix well anymore.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Excuse me, I have to use the men's room", he said</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Oh, sure go ahead", the secretary said with a smile and a confusing wink.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
This time, Dick was calm. He did not stare at the mirror. And he did not cry and tremble as he would every time he had to use the toilet before proceeding with his manly business in the toilet. He went straight to the urinals and took a leak. After all the urine had gone down the drain, he moved back to the sink where he washed his hands, taking enough soap to create enough foam to get rid of all bacteria efficiently. Two paper towels would do the trick of wiping his hands dry. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
As he left the men's room that day and made his way back into his office, he thought about his plants at home and how lovely they all looked from outside his window. All placed strategically on the inner ledge of the window to have just about the right amount of light and shadow. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Oh my gosh", an annoying loud voice came out from the main office, "don't you ...", bam, Dick closed the door behind him.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Excuse me, I did not hear you", said Dick in his usual friendly way</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"I said: Oh my gosh, don't you have a toilet in your flat?", replied his boss</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"I do not follow", answered Dick</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Don't you have a fucking toilet in your flat?", shouted the female dressed in clothes that looked somewhat dirty as if she had slept with them on all night.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Why do you always have to go to the office toilet every morning", she went on, "it is not possible that you do not have a toilet in your flat, for god's sake", she said.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Right. About the toilet, I wanted to show you something. It is vital that you do something about this. You cannot let our clients see this. It is really strange. Won't you come with me?, Dick asked.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Fuck, what now?, last week it was Meredith's menstruation's blood all over the ladies room. What now?. I bet you left a nasty and stinky floater. Fuck, Dick, can't you use a toilet correctly, flush the goddamn toilet. Why are you so fucking dumb?. I am surrounded by incompetent and ugly people. Look at me I am so fucking important. I run this office. Look at my legs, they are perfect. Men ask my for my phone number when I walk through the park. I am more beautiful that this vegan cunt behind the reception desk. Fuck, why am I surrounded by all you fucktards."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
She stood up from the desk in the dark office where she pretended to work every day. She walked towards reception and signaled Dick with her right hand to go on and show her whatever he wanted her to see.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Show me now, I do not have your time to be fucking around", she roared.</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"This way", said Dick. "It is the strangest thing I have ever seen. You have to do something about it. It is disturbing, it makes me cry everyday." he said while leading the way into the toilets. The female followed mumbling something to herself. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Once they were in the men's room, Dick pointed at one of the toilet cabins. She went in frowning in her usual way. Trying to look for whatever Dick had told her was there. She sniffed and moved her body as if she was a snake. Dick stood closely behind her. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"What is it, Dick?", she said. "I do not see anything strange", she went on.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Right there, next to the base, can 't you see it?", he replied.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Dick's boss bent over, and it was then when Dick jumped her, grabbing her by the neck and pushing her ugly face into the toilet bowl. She kicked and threw punches at the air. Dick was bigger and stronger than her.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"I do have a toilet in my flat", said Dick while using all his strength to keep his boss's face under the toilet water. "And no, you are not beautiful, you piece of shit, you are nothing but a terrible person", whispered Dick.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The woman kept on struggling. All in vain. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"I will now be able to work in peace", Dick thought. "Everyone will be happier when you are gone, bitch."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
There was water all over the floor. Dick grabbed his boss's head, lifted it and crushed it against the white toilet edge. Soon, all the struggle stopped. And blood started to gush as if it had been wanting to escape its vessel for quite some time now. Dick, an all English man, didn't want to make a mess, so he moved the head directing the blood right into the toilet bowl. Soon, he knew that she was dead and the world would be a better place.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4H9YRFXRQQbOQIONxuOL2MRnZqFKYyWqXvsnhturGIK2faN_FRiUgQyIlX4-ZMcbFEygil-2A-7030oxS-mc__y0PhcK04VabRbSRcitOmcD4_mkRHDXes88cy19JKKR2mPWImae8CNsG/s1600/1354159321_448542832_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="215" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4H9YRFXRQQbOQIONxuOL2MRnZqFKYyWqXvsnhturGIK2faN_FRiUgQyIlX4-ZMcbFEygil-2A-7030oxS-mc__y0PhcK04VabRbSRcitOmcD4_mkRHDXes88cy19JKKR2mPWImae8CNsG/s320/1354159321_448542832_.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Hermes Coldwell</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
21.3.13</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
(Dedicated to R.T)</div>
<br />
<br />Hermes Coldwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12640141421353880341noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2170651756161510609.post-90843584910604899392013-03-07T04:54:00.001-08:002013-03-08T06:02:05.276-08:00Why Does It Hurt When I Pee?<div style="text-align: justify;">
Bang! I couldn't breath. His knee went straight into my gut. I stopped looking at him. All I could see was black and red and white and green and red again. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
All the years of karate lessons had been for nothing. There was nothing I could do but surrender and take it like a man. Hold the tears deep inside and just wait for it to end. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Music played outside the toilets. It was Fucking In The Bushes by Oasis,</div>
<i><br /></i>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>"Kids are running around naked, fuckin? in the bushes.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Kids are running around naked, fuckin? in the bushes.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Kids are running around naked, fuckin? in the bushes.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Kids are running around naked, fuckin? in the bushes"</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Second and third blow to my face. I quickly wrapped my head and face with my arms in vain. Jab to my rib cage. Left hook. Right hook. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I tried to focus on other thing rather than the fact of me being in the most terrible situation I had ever been. The music outside didn't help. "Fucking in the bushes?", I thought, "what the fuck?". All my friends were outside, drinking, laughing and enjoying our Friday get together and I was being used as punching bag in a dirty toilet in Zabovresky.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Graphic Nature by Deftones began playing on the old jukebox of that fucking bar. My head now was being used to hit my attacker's knee. I laughed inside. "I am beating the shit out of his knee, with my goddamn head!", I thought in a fucking sarcastic way.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>"Leave your trail open </i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Let me inside </i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Guess I’m confused more or less </i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>She'd some light </i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>And tell me your secret </i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>How are you trained? </i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>I promise you I can keep it </i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Go on explain… </i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Tell me how you do it…now </i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Your poison is glowing </i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Against the night </i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>How can you lose"</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Chino Moreno went on singing one of my favorite songs. I had been there for hours it seemed. Somehow I managed not to shout for help. I couldn't do anything. Not even throw a punch, try to bite his nose off, kill him.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
My pants were unzipped as I was trying to take a leak when this beast decided to go berserk on me and turn me into a practice target. I must have pissed in my pants as he was quick to attack me from behind.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Nemluvim Cesky", I told him when he grabbed me and turned me around to see my face. His breath stank like beer, piss and cigarettes. "Nemluvis?" he asked me. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Ne"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Myslim ze jo, pico"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Ja jsem Mexican", I pleaded.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Ty pico", he said continuing with a sequence of blows directed to my abdomen.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I opened my eyes. I was on the floor right next to the toilet bowl. It was dark and music could be heard from afar. I couldn't make out what song it was. I fixed my eyes on the toilet just to see how badly damaged it was. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Fuck, what am I going to do now?", I said to myself. "Should I wait here a little bit longer?", I thought. All I wanted to do was to stand up and lock the door so that motherfucker wouldn't attack me again. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
So I managed to get up and close and lock myself inside. Once I had done that I reached for my phone on the left pocket of my pants and I took a picture of the blood I had spill all over the white toilet. "I need proof that I was attacked", I thought. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Outside I began to hear screams and broken glass. I decided to wait until everything was quiet. I grabbed some toilet paper and rolled it in order to create a tampon like plug to stop my nose bleed. I used two squares of toilet paper for each nostril. I waited. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Soon, somebody knocked at the door and I opened. It was a police officer. Someone had called the police and they stopped the guy who attacked me from continuing to beat my friends and everyone at the bar. His friends had ran away. My assailant, had jumped one of the police officers causing him to be sprayed with pepper and beaten with their batons. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Once he was inside the police car, and everyone had given their statement we continued our Friday night by going to a different pub and drink the night away just to stop the pain at least for a while.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnIqvQeuPvwi6OwbaCfOhVAVZx1Atx0MJznLH4iuH5nW3oUFZT5xP4D5oyKKxey2X58ZhSkq_k7MnJxa_QmBCFM-X3sKKPlvx7IA3eK15mkdWUbONfhrqWDDZEF_aBOF_rNzFW53K2SQHC/s1600/DSC_0367.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnIqvQeuPvwi6OwbaCfOhVAVZx1Atx0MJznLH4iuH5nW3oUFZT5xP4D5oyKKxey2X58ZhSkq_k7MnJxa_QmBCFM-X3sKKPlvx7IA3eK15mkdWUbONfhrqWDDZEF_aBOF_rNzFW53K2SQHC/s320/DSC_0367.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Hrms Etc</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
7.3.13</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
Hermes Coldwellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12640141421353880341noreply@blogger.com2