Poem: Into the nowhere

~ John Loraine ~ Leave a comment

We are marching into the nowhere,
Everything is black and white and anything in between.
The masks on our faces cover our souls.
They cover our minds and intentions.

We all pretend that we care but we don’t.
We support the system that failed us.
We represent somebody we don’t know.
We say things we don’t really mean.

We make heroes out of thieves.
We turn thieves into our heroes.
The law is something that doesn’t work,
Something was written and forgotten
A long time ago.

We barricade our future and our minds,
We are strong or at least we feel like we are,
We demand and we want and we will die for a change,
We need to have things differently
But we never change ourselves.

The truth does hurt and it hurts a lot, just like love hurts.
Our fragile minds are so occupied and so worried
That we don’t even think about it.
We move forward, we try to persevere,
But fail, as the system fails, as the blue sky fails.

With faces angry, moving against the establishments
With our fists to the sky and the voices screaming 
For a change, for freedom, for something.
We hope that the change will come 
And we hope that this march is the last one.

My trip back home. Dedicated to Anthony Bourdain

~ John Loraine ~ 1 Comment

This has been the first, and the last time I saw Anthony Bourdain alive…

JFK airport in New York was as busy as usual, even at 10 pm on Thursday night. This night on May 17th of 2018, we were going home. I got married two years ago, and my wife and I decided to go back home to Ukraine to visit the family and old friends as well as have some fun out there and travel around Europe. I hadn’t been home for ten years at that time, so I was super excited and, at the same time, a bit nervous about going back. A lot has changed since I was gone. Two nationwide revolutions happened in the country, three presidents changed seats, the annexation of Crimea, and the war in the East of Ukraine, just to mention a few. I was planning this trip for a while but never had a chance to do it. Finally, we were on our way.

We’ve turned in our luggage and, with two small carry-on bags, were roaming the airport searching for a place to kill the next three hours before our flight and, of course, the place where we could get a drink. We passed a few different cafes, which either didn’t look attractive enough or served something we wanted to eat. 

“This one looks good and has a bar too.” Said I to my wife as we were walking by another café.

“Yeah, do you want to go there?”

“Sure, let’s see what they have on the menu.”

The place was crowded as most of the places in New York. This one was packed, and there was a short line of people waiting to get in. The waiters were running around serving food and drinks, wiping down the tables after people who left and setting them up for new customers. We grabbed menus at the front desk and looked inside. There were some soups and salads, and burgers with fries and sandwiches, and various drinks available.

“I’ll have a burger and a beer for myself. What would you like, honey?” I asked my wife.

“I’ll have a salad and a mojito,” said my wife.

“Sounds good. Let’s get in line. It seems to be moving fast.”

“Ok.” Said my wife, as we left menus at the front desk and got in the line. We had a little less than three hours before our flight home. We were hungry and happy.

…2018 was a bad year. This trip out to Ukraine was really the only highlight and the most exciting moment, the rest of 2018 was just struggling and trying to make ends meet. I have lost two full-time jobs back in 2017, which lead me to 2018 fully unemployed and emotionally broken and financially desperate. That was a moment of truth in my life. I was young and angry at the world and social establishments, and all that horseshit that dominated my life and made me a slave to the system. I thought that corporate life was not for me anymore. I was an outcast. I couldn’t get myself together and focus and work well with other people. Fuck people. Why did everybody annoy me so much? Why did I always feel like I had to adjust to meet some criteria or someone else’s expectations? Why I never had an opportunity to focus on things that mattered to me the most?  I needed to make up my mind and try to do something that would bring me joy and help me become happy and fulfilled instead of miserable, frustrated, and always stressed the fuck out of my mind. So, that was it for me, and my relationship with a corporate world ‘slash’ career-building pursuit. 

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My Iggy Pop Experience

~ John Loraine ~ Leave a comment

That morning I was driving to work happy. There indeed was a smile on my face, and some weird naïve internal happiness was coming from the deep down of my poor little soul. I felt like life was good, even when it really wasn’t, and I was just fucking happy like a child is happy. This wasn’t an average morning, and my mood on an ordinary morning while driving to work is rather pissed. Iggy Pop played in my car, “I am a passenger, and I ride, and I ride…” blasted from my speakers as I’ve was driving into the morning madness of work and school traffic and all those poor schmucks who were out there just like me, early in the morning trying to make it happen for them. I didn’t care for them, I barely cared for myself. But I was trying to make it. 

I was a poor fucking immigrant who somehow ended up working for a company that I despised for everything they did, everything they stood for, and I hated all those fuckers I had to face every day in the office. The reason I was happy that morning was that Iggy Pop was in town, and I was going to see his concert later that day in downtown Philly. The one and only, the mean and cool, the Godfather of Punk, Iggy fucking Pop, was on tour with his new band, new music “Post Pop Depression,” and I would never miss the chance to see that show. It was a great fucking day for me at once, and I still recall that great feeling four years later. 

I’ve listened to Iggy Pop’s music all day long, at the gym in the morning, and at work in the office while working. Even listening to his music made me feel different, made me feel like I don’t give a fuck, made me feel like all the lost souls feel than they find themselves desperate and misunderstood. It was a Friday, the fucking long-time coming Friday of April 15, 2016. I usually didn’t have too much work to do on Fridays, but that one was pretty fucking occupied. I didn’t mind. I had plans for the night, I had a concert to go to and needed the time to pass by as fast as possible. 

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Poem: Pandemic

~ John Loraine ~ 2 Comments


The times are changing  
Our lives are changing  
Our usual day-to-day is not  
What is has been anymore.   
The thoughts about what can go wrong,  
When life is so good, they are now in the past.  
Have changed to thoughts like  
How will we survive? How we can make sure  
Do we have enough of everything to carry on?  
The virus is spreading like the early Spring’s warm breeze  
And it is blooming at the same time  
The first flowers on the trees are blooming  
In the Spring. Death is blooming too.   
The virus is beautiful just like the blossom  
It has these little crowns,  
It is hard to resist, it is everywhere,  
It takes your breath away,  
It is impossible to stop.  
Simple things like enjoying the warm sunny days,  
Like enjoying the blossom blooming,  
Like breathing the air become deadly things,  
Dangerous, contagious. 

We are covering our mouths with masks  
We are covering our hands with gloves,  
We are covering our souls with greed  
We are covering our minds in darkness.  
The strong will survive,  
The smart will survive,  
The careful will survive,  
An idiot will spread it all over  
And give the virus a life, a chance.  
We all need a chance, we all need to live  
We only have one life, and there are no returns,  
No second chances.  
With are fridges filled-up, with our pantries filled-up,  
We sit in our homes, isolated,  
Away from each other,  
Hoping for the best future,  
Hoping it will go away soon.  
Will go to work, those who still have one,  
Will resume our vacation plans,   
Will re-invest our portfolios,  
Will see another day,  
But we all will be different people then.  

Maybe we’ll learn to appreciate the little things  
In life,  
Perhaps we’ll learn to share  
With one another,  
Perhaps we’ll learn to survive  
And to help,  
Perhaps we’ll learn to be mindful,  
And to be human again?

Pandemic reflection

~ John Loraine ~ 2 Comments

It is another month, another day or rather another evening as I am writing this and life goes on. I haven’t noticed how one month became another, and here we go, welcome all to March. It’s been a busy couple of months of this new year so far. Everything was happening too fast too much, and there was no way of stopping it until recently. Maybe that is why the time just flew by over my head without notice. Is it because I am getting old faster? Or is the world coming to an end? The older I become, the more I think about life, mortality, diseases, and what the future is holding for us. Nowadays, that the novel virus is in the air pretty much everywhere, everyone is wondering what the fuck is that going to be like?  

Just about two weeks ago it all was just another media story, another hype, just so foreign and so far, and away. Two weeks later, it became a disaster, and we don’t know how we are going to deal with it. I mean, we do know, but do we do enough to prevent the spread of this virus? Not really. There are still so many people ignoring all the warnings, and then we see a whopping seven hundred plus percent increase in coronavirus cases in the United States alone in just one week! That just tells me how many fucking ignorant idiots there are in this country and how fast they confirm their ignorance and carelessness. But also, it tells me more and more that things like this ‘new flu’ virus should not be ignored. Regardless of the media is overblowing it, if Trump says this or that, if nobody you actually know has it, or if you are on your Spring break, the danger is real. For all those who just don’t give a fuck, it might, and it will catch up with you and anybody else who is not behaving responsibly and who are not following the basic rules such as social distancing and washing the hands regularly. It is all up to us, you and me, not Trump, not Pence, not China, not your local douchebags representatives, who only get involved with you when they need your vote. It is up to us because it is about our lives, our families, our children, and our future.  

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Uber Story: Saint Patrick’s Day

~ John Loraine ~ 1 Comment

I woke up with a little bit of a headache on St. Patrick’s Day morning. I’ve had some wine last night. I was tired of driving 16 hours for Uber and when I came home, I decided to take it easy. My life was not easy then and everything seemed to be working against me. I’ve lost two nice corporate jobs last year and now I’ve been full-time employed, or self-employed, or whatever the fuck you call this, driving for Uber. I’ve become just “a driver who drove random people around the town for a living.” I was also an inspired writer who never fucking had any time to sit down and write anything because all I could think about was how in the fuck am I going to pay my bills this month. Seven years of college and ten years of professional business career experience went to shit and all of a sudden, I was not needed anywhere and starving for money. My shit was out of luck and so was my life.

March 17th, 2017 was a nice, warm, and sunny day. Perfect weather to get shit-faced for a holiday like that. I woke up feeling sick and tired but I had no time or opportunity to recover from the constant sleep deprivation, habitual frustration, anxiety, light obesity, anger management issues, light form of alcoholism, and impulsive smoking. A complete package. Little that I knew what this day will bring to me later on.

The cold water was running down from my faucet into my hands as I was trying to wash away my tired, puffed-up, swollen face. It felt great, very refreshing. I don’t think it was helping my bad life situation and overall sadness but it was something. I brushed my teeth, took a shower, and made my breakfast. The usual routine. Nothing special. I thought about a bottle of cold beer in the fridge but then I thought about the smell of it in the car and the passengers possibly complaining and Uber locking down my account. Fuck that, I thought. That wasn’t an option. But it was a Saturday, a St. Patrick’s Day for fuck’s sake, who would ever complain about the alcohol smell? I couldn’t take any risks. I needed the money. The bills were handing over my head like a ton of bricks waiting until I wasn’t ready and then fall down on my head squashing me and my misery creating just a puddle of shit on the pavement. All I needed was to survive another fucking working day.

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Memory Hotel

~ John Loraine ~ 2 Comments

The dark countryside road went up and down and into the nowhere and into the unknown darkness of the Pocono’s mountains. Google Maps was taking us somewhere we’ve never been before. Driving was getting exhausting as it was getting late into the evening and pitch dark all around us.  

“Honey, why don’t we pull out at the nearest hotel and spend the night there? We’ll hit the road tomorrow morning again. I am so tired of driving in this darkness. I can barely see where I am going.” 

“Ok, sounds good, babe. I am exhausted too and I need a hot shower” my wife said. I flicked a left turn signal shifted to the far-right lane and took the exit out of the highway.   

The curvy exit road took us through the toll booth and out into the town’s street with a gas station right there on the right. There were a few chain fast-food and pizza places down the street meant to be for the tourists, of course, to stop by for a quick bite of something painfully familiar while being away from the city. A few minutes driving down on that street we saw this classy, red-brick, four-story hotel with some lights on the outside of the building and a dead empty and quiet Broadway street. 

I and my wife love to go out into the countryside over a holiday break or just because we feel like going somewhere away from the city and just explore new places, enjoy the view and enjoy getting lost in some weird unknown mountainside traps. We were married for about just three years back then and life was just much simpler and free. 

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Poem: High Hopes

~ John Loraine ~ Leave a comment

Feeling bad,  
Feeling blue,  
Feeling sad,  
Feeling hopeless.  
When death comes around  
And  
Takes someone you know,  
You are reminded one more time  
That nobody will be here forever.  
We are only visiting  
This world of life, irony,  
Politics, anger, and frustration  
Temporarily.  
Look the truth in the eyes,  
Look your life in the eyes,  
Look inside of you,  
Who are you?  
What you are here for?  
Asking these questions again and again,  
Hoping there will be  
Another day tomorrow,   
For me  
And for you.  
I hope… 

About writing

~ John Loraine ~ Leave a comment

I started working on a novel back in late 2016. The novel is about an ordinary guy Johnny who is working as a salesman at a furniture store. He’s young and broke and trying to become somebody in this life. He meets a girl who comes to the store and they go out on a date and he falls in love with her. The problem is that they both are coming from different worlds and they are very different and incompatible people. The middle of the story is being written and the ending is in progress. There has to be a sad ending, I think. Maybe even a tragic one who knows? 

There are a few other projects that I have in the works. Yeh, a few other novel ideas and a TV show are on my long-term writing list. I know that I will eventually get there but all I need is the time and a proper state of my mind. The timing thing is always the problem. There could be a lot of time but no passion for any writing or my mind would be in some weird place. Sometimes life gets in a way and there is no chance to write anything, sometimes I’d try to squeeze a thirty-minute to an hour to sit down and write something. That’s pretty much all you need as a writer. Just sit the fuck down and write.  

I love to write early in the morning. I do find early morning hours the best to write because there is nothing else to do and likely nobody will bother you. A lot of times, I open my laptop and start writing just about anything. It could be the most random writing ever. I rarely know what will come up once the words start filling the page. Then one page fills up there might be two pages and three and so on. Writing is not about the pages. It is about mastership of releasing your thoughts and emotions on the page making the reader live your writing, feel your writing and want to read more. Writing is like a therapy for a writer. When you are all alone, processing your thoughts, building your ideas as they come to you one after another and transforming them into sentences, the magic happens. Eventually, you’ll get something out of your system and you’ll feel great about yourself afterward, even if your writing wasn’t that good. There is also a sense of accomplishment that will give you a lot of energy and will for sure lift your writing sprits up.  

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Mama was right

~ John Loraine ~ 2 Comments

The story I am about to tell happened to me fifteen years ago. It might not seem like a very good or an interesting story but it makes me feel shameful of my own ego even today. This story is one of the many examples from my personal life that taught me an important life lesson. I guess they call it a turning point. It might as well be one of the turning points that changed my perception and appreciation for my mother, my family, and life in general.  

This story takes place around December, my first semester at junior college. It was just another Friday night and the four of us were hanging out. We roamed around the City, did some shopping then we had dinner someplace and a few drinks. It was a great time. I still feel good thinking about those days. And to be clear, I haven’t had any social life before then, so to me, those days were pretty good in terms of getting some life and getting to know people around me. I, my friend Gene, his girlfriend, and my new girlfriend were best friends in college. We did everything together. We all came to America in about the same time, we all were about the same age. We started college same time, took the same classes, and went out for lunches, coffee breaks, smoke breaks, and double dates.  

I was in my first year of college trying to become a decent student and eventually a decent citizen and proud office worker. It all starts in college somehow. Back then I knew a few wise things which I always kept on my: 1) I am nobody here, 2) I don’t know anybody who can help me, and 3) I need to make shit happen for me somehow. These three things basically defined my understanding of life and were driving me through the college years and eventually into the workforce. These were the thoughts of a young immigrant teenager who was brought to this country to have a better shot at life with a single mother who worked multiple jobs to support me and my brother. 

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Poem: The matter of life and death

~ John Loraine ~ Leave a comment

The feelings of sadness and emptiness 
Are filling myself up as if  
Running water fills up the cup 
And runs over the top splashing all over. 
I was left alone and hopeless with an emptiness in my heart 
And some random thoughts about nothing. 
Everything becomes nothing 
When you become less than zero, 
When your soul is just another cloud in the sky 
Blown away and torn apart by the wind, 
Burned by the sun and shit over by the birds. 
Everyone has its own destiny 
And the destiny sure has everyone alright. 
These games with life are tough,  
One will never get out of here alive. 
You can smile death right in the face saying ‘Fuck you’ 
But guess who will be laughing in the end? 
This is the fight for life and death as we are all getting closer 
Day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute… 
Everybody has their own clock to punch out
When their time comes.

The first night of 2020

~ John Loraine ~ Leave a comment

As this decade fades and a new one begins, I am up since 3:30 in the morning not sleeping. The first night of the new decade in the new 2020 year and I am already experiencing insomnia. Why in the fuck I cannot sleep tonight? I don’t know. Maybe that Starbucks coffee in the late afternoon was unnecessary? Maybe I am too excited to be here? Maybe I am just a lunatic? This did happen to me before. It always happens around the same time too, 3 fucking 30 A.M. I am turning and twisting, getting uncomfortable, getting up to pee, my brain is getting all fired up and here I am, not fucking sleeping. Instead, I am laying in my bed and having a heavy fucking riff with myself, debating on some random topic. Here I am, 3:30 in the morning, not able to sleep, having an imaginary conversation with my friend, lying in bed all tired and out of my fucking mind. Why? 

The new decade has just begun and I would like to welcome you ‘all to it. How was your New Year celebration? Did you feel a bit hungover afterward? Did you overindulge this last night celebrating and getting all cheered up about the New Year? People always do get all happy and excited about the New Years’ coming. They are ever hopeful and they wish everyone a great year and all that good shit they wish around themselves and others. And then they fucking drink themselves to death trying to make sure that all those stupid fucking wishes come true ASAP in the new year.  

Well, let me tell you something. They might come true and they might not. I guess, somebody has to do some work in order to make these wishes come true. Somebody has to make the magic work. Who that might be, right? Bragging about myself, I haven’t gotten drunk this New Year at all. In fact, one of my new year’s resolution for this year is to quit drinking alcohol at all. So, I only had one bottle of $20 French wine and I’ve been drinking it from 7 pm to about 3 in the morning. And I wasn’t drunk at all. I wasn’t even trying to get drunk for one last time. Fuck all that, I thought. I am going to be in charge of my life and I am going to make the right decisions for myself and my family. I don’t just hope that the New Year will bring me luck, money, success, and health, etc. New year or old year, this decade, that decade, it doesn’t matter to me. I am going to be in charge and work hard to make things happen. Only that way, I think, your fucking empty wishes will actually monetize and have a chance to come true. Only by hard work and a proper agenda the magic will actually happen. 

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Time is all we have

~ John Loraine ~ Leave a comment

I am sure I am not the only one who always gets some good ideas in the shower. Also, I do find the shower a great place to argue with myself, debating on specific topics that I am having mixed feelings about or I am virtually trying to argue with my friend, for example. There is something about that place or the process, something about showering that triggers certain brain receptors makes them produce some interesting ideas and thoughts. I’ve been in the shower this early morning thinking about life. What else can I think at 5 in the morning? I guess that’s all I do, thinking about life.  

I was thinking about life and reflecting on the past, as everyone should do. We’ve made it this far, it’s December of 2019 and damn it, this year flew by fast. I have been quite a productive year, in a way; a lot of great momentums were there. I have certainly achieved things that I never was able to on the personal level, health-wise, life-wise and so on. Fuck, I’ve even started my own blog. How great is that? I’ve been running it for about three months now and I enjoy doing it. I will plan to do more writing and more posts as I go along. I hope to get my message across to as many people as I can and to as many people who might find the topics I am talking about relevant and close to their own experiences. I am certainly more organized from the writing perspective now. Posting a new blog post every week or two weeks makes me do the work. 

The end of the year is a great time to reflect on past life, on the year passing and think about the future. In the shower this morning I thought about it. I thought about my future and how often did I find myself seeing nothing in there. It’s all kind of dark, there is nothing to be seen there. It almost feels like the light switch has been turned off. I need to find it and turn back on and see what’s out there.  

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Poem: Bored at work

~ John Loraine ~ Leave a comment

Bored out of my fucking mind
I sit here and wait 
For the clock  
To strike the
5 o’clock. 
I watch the time closely
As I breathe meditating.

The clock is the meditation at work 
That helps me to get through yet another useless day. 
The time seems not to care  
To move 
Fast
Enough. 
I guess I should be happy to have a job. 
5 days a week, 8 hours a day 
From 9 to 5 o’clock… 
Fuck! 

I’ve sold my soul to the devil, 
I’ve sold myself to the corporation. 
I’ve become who I was always afraid of becoming.
I am one of them, I am part of the system. 
I am yet another brick in the wall. 
Working towards my career, steady paycheck, 
401K, health insurance, job security, PTO’s, sick days, 
Corporate holidays, office parties, office meetings 
While wasting the best years of my life… 

Sitting here at work, bored the fuck out of my mind. 

My shit’s out of luck. Resolution. Part III.

~ John Loraine ~ Leave a comment

This is kind of ironic to write this follow up exactly two years after my shit went South. Yeh, it’s been two years already since I was fucked really good by the system. It’s been two years since life had really tried my patience; since gods tested my nerves and everything precious for me at the time was just gone. I do still feel the pain, but it is not what it used to be back then. I am a stronger man now. I don’t give a fuck any longer.  

I do like to reflect on my life looking back and analyzing what I have done, what I’ve learned, or what am I supposed to be? Just two years ago I felt like the Earth has moved under my feet; like everything I have been living and striving for all of my life just fucking collapsed. Looking back at those times today it certainly feels different. I have outgrown that. As they like to say “Whatever doesn’t’ kill you will make you stronger.” It did make me a stronger person indeed. I do think though that it is always a good practice to reflect back on the “good old days” and see how can I learn from that. I wouldn’t be a man who I am today if not for all that crap that happened to me in the past. 

My shit did have some luck eventually, but it took me a while to get there. I think about life as the picks and valleys. Back then in late 2017 and 2018, there were plenty of fucking valleys in my life. Losing two corporate jobs in one year or to be more precise in just under 5 months. It has been quite a fuck-up on my end. Not everything ever depended on me necessarily. There were other things in the background. There are always other things in the way. I did sign up to be a “normal” part of society and have a real nine-to-five-job and a stable pay and the benefits. I’ve sold my soul, kind of. But, why the fuck not? After all, I have graduated from one of the top Philadelphia’s business schools to get here. I still owe a good chunk of my student loans. Somebody has to pay them off. Somebody has to feed my family, my child, and finance my unknown future.  

Back in the day, I thought, I have to get a good education, I have to stay career-inspired, I have to do everything well, I have to do a good job and get recognized. I have to build my fucking career, in order to make a good living for myself and my family. These were the days when carrying a laptop around with you to classes or coffee shops was a strange new thing. These were the days with no smartphones, no apps, no SEO, no bullshit. Kids actually had to study and read the real books and write original essays and all that jazz. Having a good job after graduating from a good school was a sure thing. I could never imagine that with all that technological advancement everything will be shifting and changing so fast, that every day at your own fucking job can be the last one. As soon as all that shit gets automated and optimized for efficiency and cost savings to improve the “bottom line” there will be no need of you, regular working pal, you’re out. Nobody cares about the average man. 

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Poem: Living the dream

~ John Loraine ~ Leave a comment

At 30 not working full-time anymore, 
No more jobs, morning commutes, cubicles, 
Useless conversations in the kitchen during lunch breaks, 
No more annoying coworkers, no more boss, no more job security. 

Lost the passion for life and
My path to a professional career. 
Lost the passion for success in life. 
Everything is dark and strange everywhere. 

Drinking my wine, listening to some old records, 
The music by the dead people brings back  
The memories of the life I have never been around for. 
Trying to write my first novel, composing a book of poetry, 
Short stories collection, trying to write something,
Anything. 

I’ve been fired twice this year from my career jobs, 
My shit’s out of luck, my luck is out of shit. 
I don’t know if there is any more sense 
To play the game and feed the system.
Fuck the system I say, fuck the office, the job, 
Security, 401K, the boss, the manager and the rest of it. 

I am tired of trying to become somebody I’d hate. 
I am tired of wasting the best years of my life, my prime time, 
My prime health for a fucking paycheck and recognition. 
I am tired to do things that bore me, do dull things that kill me, 
Things that slowly kill a living soul inside me. 

Bukowski wrote “go all the way” and he did, and he made it. 
I will go all the way and I will try to make it on my own,  
I’ll live for my dream, living the dream. 
Living the life of an artist while others enslave themselves 
Working and slowly dying at these soul-crushing jobs, 
Trying to build a career, save for the retirement,  
Put the kids through college, live by a budget,  
Feed their families, pay off their cars and mortgages. 

When will we have the time to live our lives in peace and harmony? 

I am sitting here in my room, listening to some old jazz music, 
Pouring the wine into my glass until full and  
Waiting for my muse to come…

What happened next?

~ John Loraine ~ Leave a comment

So here I was, thirty years old, unemployed, broke but happy. It all happened two years ago as I am typing this. November 2017 was a motherfucker of a month for me. I remember waking up the next day and having no early morning alarms set up, not rushing to get anywhere, no turnpikes, no traffics, no more frustrations, no more anxiety, no more work. I was jobless and free. I woke up, got my shower, got my breakfast, and thought about what should I be doing now since I have all the time in the world to myself.

I’ve decided to wash my laundry. I was so excited that I forgot to check my pockets, and washed my “ChapStick” along with my jeans and dress shirts, fucking them all up with greasy stains. Next, I’ve decided to clean my house. I’ve got plenty of time so I’ve decided to go deep and wash everything well, reach all the hard-to-reach places and make my house shine. Everything took me about half of the day. When the afternoon came around, I’ve decided that I need to get some air. I got into my car and drove to Wawa to get some coffee and smoked a cigarette. While smoking outside I was thinking about it all. What’s next for me? The house is clean and the laundry is done. What should I be doing? When should I start looking for new jobs? Not now, for sure. Fuck that. I’ve had enough. I needed some time to clear my head. I needed some time to recover. I’ll go home and write something, I thought. Plenty of time for writing now. I should put it all in on writing. Why not? This is a great opportunity now since I have no agenda anymore.

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Poem: Corporate motherfuckers

~ John Loraine ~ Leave a comment

they know how to deal with you 

they know how to use you, 

they know how to eat your soul 

and fuck your brains out, they 

are always looking for something new 

and there is always something else and something’s more, 

and nobody is fucking happy with anything. 

the stock price is your god 

and you are the dog, the slave, the fucked up one 

who thinks to please them will mean 

to be one of them and be better than everybody else. 

they have their own club and the members are just 

like them, you will never be part of them. 

and even in the rare cases, you might have a chance 

they will break your soul and your mind 

just so you can be more like a slave for them. 

you sacrifice the best days of your life 

you run down the precious health you’ve been lucky to have, 

you’ve forgotten what it means to sleep well at night, 

and the fucking coffee means more to you than your blood. 

you sit at your desk numb and cold, 

the air conditioner is freezing you to death. 

you miss all these nice beautiful sunny days, 

the walks in the park, the time with your wife and children. 

you barely have time to spend on the fun stuff,  

all the things you love you will sacrifice for the  

bigger price, for the higher stock price, fuck you and fuck your life. 

the career is what you live for and they know it well and they make you  

feel like there is nothing else so important. 

and what do you get for that instead?  

401K up to 6% matching, 18 PTO days which you are always afraid to take, 

a few general main holidays, and fucking expensive health insurance, 

3% of annual salary increases and if you are lucky enough  

you might get a little promotion.  

corporate motherfuckers are there to kill you and 

destroy you 

and suck all the life out of you. 

be careful what you wish for and what you are sacrificing 

the best moments of your life to, 

i’m sure these fuckers are not worth it. 

My shit’s out of luck or the stories of my life. Part II

~ John Loraine ~ Leave a comment

Getting Fired

That day was supposed to be just like any other working day. It was last Tuesday of November 2017, the week after Thanksgiving. I came to work, as usual, five minutes before 8:30 AM and walked to my desk. I’ve checked my emails opened my drive, started to look over some files, checked what was left behind from the day before. Everything was just normal. I couldn’t even guess that this would be the day when I will get fired for the second time that year alone. 

The sun came out and lit up that usual workday with some sunshine but it has been still pretty damn cold outside. From the inside, though, it seemed like it was warm and nice out there, almost like the Spring came early. During these rare days, you always feel a bit nostalgic and happy and you just want to go outside, leave that fucking desk and that fucking job and enjoy some daylight and enjoy some sunlight and just enjoy the simple moments of your life. I haven’t gone outside until later. I always wait until 12:30 PM sometimes 1 PM before I take my lunch and leave that fucking place for at least one hour to enjoy my lunch in the car. Yes, I ate my lunch in the fucking car, like a true savage I am. That fucking place had millions of dollars in the banks all over this fair country of ours but they didn’t have a simple fucking lunchroom for people to sit down and eat their leftovers at. You had to eat that smelly shit by your desk or take it outside or to your car. I’ve started that job in early August when the weather was still nice and warm. I loved to go outside and eat my lunch by one of the patio tables and enjoying the sun and the wind and the fresh air, and most importantly away from that fucking cubical.  

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Poem: My poems – my soul

~ John Loraine ~ Leave a comment

my poems just keep coming 

back to me 

back at me 

like the rain 

like the hurricane 

like the thunder. 

they come in my sleep, 

they come in my car, 

at work, at lunch 

or dinner time 

or anytime I come. 

they boil inside me, 

getting ready for me to  

get them out there 

on the piece of paper. 

give them some life, 

make them real, 

make them alive, 

bring back to life 

just like my thoughts: 

sad,  

funny, 

mean, 

dumb, 

whatever. 

as long as they keep coming 

i feel good, 

i feel great, 

i feel alive. 

even when I don’t feel 

like writing 

i always have my poems. 

they will never leave me alone, 

even tonight, 

the deep and dark and drunken night, 

rain or snow or cigarette smoke all over. 

my poems are my soul, they keep me going 

even after rough days like this 

when I am so fucking tired, 

i need some wine and poetry 

to save me.