Do you know this feeling of emptiness after a show

When you come back home, put the gifted flowers in a vase and watch them wilt day by day

You had forgotten to eat for a long time, now you feel all that hunger at once

So you go to the nearest grocery shop but everything seems so much uglier now

The arbitrary order how things are arranged overwhelms your view

The randomness of the colors, the shapes, the noises causes a deep pain inside of you

You notice that you have no longer control over the movements and their timings around you

The deepness of your thoughts and the amount of creativity slowly lose their importance while you try to choose the toppings of your next frozen pizza

The fact that you were an artist once doesn't matter in here

This world occurs so unplanned, irregular, accidental, everything in that nature and somehow you miss the meaning behind it

You try to distract your sight with another sense and fool your eyes

You put your headphones on and listen to a classical piece

Suddenly it helps you to see an odd poetry of everyday life in aimless objects and working people, you're seeking power and rising up

Once again you abused music for your survival purpose and that is never a long term sedation, your connection breaks

You run back into your house, you're incredible tired but can't find a way to relax nor sleep

Yesterday they were applauding you and celebrating what you've achieved

You called your team your family and met new people, experts of their kind

Now you're just here, by yourself

You're not known for being anything special, you're just you

The only title you have is human now

The only success you have is existence now

You're just here

Lying in the dark on your bed, almost invisible and completely irrelevant for others

You even wonder if your dead body would stink if something would happen

You don't want to see anyone, you don't even want to make calls and talk about how it went, voices bother you

You want to avoid everything that is related to the casuality of life

But reality comes closer and closer in the form of a loud giant vacuum cleaner towards you

You're exhausted, forced to let it happen and it sucks you up just like that

Now you know you're trapped inside, somewhere in all the dust of the past time

You just wait there so another night passes by

Until one morning you get up and are able to work again

You're able to see the light again

Until a giant old, grumpy cleaning lady comes in, doesn't give a fuck about your "do not disturb" sign and clears space for new

The big, reckless cleaning ladies that even clean the inside of the cleaners are always the ones who manage to save you out

You step outside and are amazed how everything is flat and smooth

The will to cause new dirt overcomes your body and you start polluting your room and fouling the newly polished floors

The creation of art always begins lonesome and ends in a crowded way

In between is this feeling of emptiness, while waiting for the cleaning lady

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