A Place with More Meaning by Bogdan Dragos

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(ゝ◡・)ノ♡

MasticadoresIndia // Editora: Terveen Gill

An abstract image with a cup of coffee in the center and the fires of hell on the left side and the cross of Christ on the right side
Image Source: Canva

“One day

I drank 29 cups of

coffee,” she said

“Yeah,” he said, “I’ve

no doubt.

“It was my attempt at

suicide,” she said

“Yeah. I’ve no

doubt.”

“There’s free coffee at

work,

so I took advantage. My

boyfriend died

that way, you know? He

was a truck

driver

so he used coffee and

energy drinks to

help him drive at night.

I don’t know how many

he had that night,

but his heart

exploded.

And I thought, you know,

if I die in the

same way, perhaps I will

be taken to the same

place as him.

It just didn’t work for

me.

I know you think this

is, like, so naive,

but when you’re drowning in

grief like I was… even

the afterlife

starts to make sense.

That’s when you

believe most in fantasy. I

even believed in

God, like all the people who

reach…

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What’s Prodigal Mean? by Bogdan Dragos

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♡⊂ʕ•ᴥ•⊂ʔ 

MasticadoresIndia // Editora: Terveen Gill

The close up image of a woman hugging a teenage boy with only the lower half of the woman's face showing
Image Source: Canva

he felt a bit guilty

about it

but just

a bit

He knew

it was wrong to

be happy

when father came home

drunk

and stupid

but it was the only time

when mother

came to sleep

in his room,

“because your father

needs to cool

off,” as she put it

It was a good deal

because she

slept in his bed

and let him

suck on

her breasts

and told him

stories

“When I was your age,”

tonight’s

story went,

“I slept in a closet when

daddy came

home drunk. And my only

friend there

was a hanged tie

that looked like

a snake. I would stand on

my toes

and whisper in its ear, tell

it about my day,

about how my life

sucked

and how daddy beat me

and mommy

didn’t want me around either.

The snake tie listened.

It listened to

anything, everything…

View original post 376 more words

to feel romantic about the writer’s block

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Gobblers / Masticadores // Editores: Manuela Timofte / j re crivello

By Bogdan Dragos

48 days without a word written maybe there weren’t exactly 48 but he liked to feel romantic about his writer’s block A good period of writer’s block is one that makes you write about what an incapable writer you are perhaps tomorrow, he thought as he came out of the bathroom and opened the bottle of red wine and poured himself a glass as he watched the snow falling outside Last day during a nap he dreamed that the snow reached all the way to the sixth floor where he lived and he saw his wife and two kids walking on top of it, stopping by his window to check on him It was a funny dream The wife and kids left during the summer that passed and never came back and he tried to make himself guilty for not missing them that much, but failed Now…

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Allergies by Bogdan Dragos

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(๑′ ᴗ ‵๑)♥ 

MasticadoresIndia // Editora: Terveen Gill

An evil looking gray cat staring ahead from behind a gray blanket
Image Source: Canva

“Are you trying to

kill me?” his mother screamed. “Are

you trying to fucking

kill me!?”

He backed away. “Mom, please.”

“Shut up! You brought

a cat. A cat! Of all things. In the house!

Knowing full well

of my allergies. That is a declaration,

young man. A declaration

that speaks

very loud. You are trying

to kill your own mother, you

insane monster!”

An hour later he

was in his room

caressing the cat’s head

and back

while it lay on his chest

and purred

“Can you believe her?” he

said to the cat

“Hardly,” said the cat. “She was

a monster though. You made

the right choice, baby.”

“When I decided to

keep you?” he asked

“Yes,” said the cat. “And when

you stabbed her in

the chest. You’re such a good boy.

That’s why I love you. And

after I help you calm

down…

View original post 93 more words

Azi m-am apucat de scris

ENGLISH TRANSLATION: 

There were times
when I got
home
threw my backpack in the corner
took off my shoes
my jacket
walked into my room
took off my pants, my shirt
put on sweatpants, another shirt
turned on the PC
ate a bag of salty potato chips
drank whatever I could
wasted time

I was happy in those times

Today I write. 

MasticadoresRumanía Editora: Manuela Timofte

de Bogdan Dragoș

Erau vremuri
în care ajungeam acasă,
îmi aruncam ghiozdanul într-un colț
al camerei,
îmi dădeam jos papucii,
haina,
intram în cameră,
îmi dădeam jos pantalonii, tricoul,
trăgeam pe mine ceva 
pantaloni din ăia largi, alt tricou,
porneam calculatorul,
desfăceam o pungă de cipsuri,
beam ce puteam
și pierdeam vremea.

Eram fericit
în acele vremuri.

Azi însă,
m-am apucat de scris.

Imagine de Gordon Johnson de la Pixabay

https://bogdandragos.com/

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It’s All a Game by Bogdan Dragos

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ヽ(♡‿♡)ノ 

MasticadoresIndia // Editora: Terveen Gill

A doll lying submerged in green moldy stale water with a frog sitting near its head
Image Source: Canva

but what are we alive for

if not to play

and enjoy

games

life itself is

but a game

and the best at it are

those who don’t

grow up, those who can

still view it

as such

She tried to teach her

four children

this truth

that’s why she brought them

into the backyard

where all the small trash bags,

so well wrapped in tape,

were laid on the grass,

and told them,

“It’s like that Easter game

where you find

the eggs. Only this time it’s

with small trash bags,

and you’ll be hiding

them.” She clapped

her hands a few times. “So let’s

go then. Mommy will

play along this time.

Let’s hide

the bags.”

It was the police

who came to

search for them later

“Can we build a dad

with all

these parts?” asked

one of the kids

after the policemen

won…

View original post 113 more words

like making a contract with a dumpster diving company

first came
the 15 page letters

They were
typed in parts and
written by hand in others

the ink color
would change
and the font
and the little doodles on
the margins
 
The only consistency in
the whole project
was the reader’s
inability to understand 93%
of it all

They were threats, alright,
but of what nature?

Well, next came the envelopes
filled with rusty and bloody
razor blades
pubic hairs
bloody tissues
bloody plastic gloves
broken guitar strings
clipped nails
pictures of random people
with their eyes crossed out
by needle scratches

“It’s not so bad
if you think
about it,” he said. “I get free
stuff in the mail. Sure, most
of it is junk,
but every once in a while I get
something good.
Look, the other day I got this
perfectly functioning pen. Heh,
I might even
start writing poetry again…
I’m tellin’ you, man, breaking
the heart of a psychotic girl
is like
making a contract with
a dumpster diving company to deliver
the junk to your mail. For free.
Goddamn, I should really
start writing poetry again. Now that
I don’t have to go
scout the dumpsters myself. I gotta
do something with
all the free time.” 

cat shaking the paw by Bogdan Dragos

(っ╹◡╹)っ  Visit Gobblers/Masticadores and find more writings you can enjoy!

Gobblers / Masticadores // Editores: Manuela Timofte / j re crivello

She could say it if
she wanted
to but
the words would
carry no
weight behind them

like a cat shaking
the paw with
you
and not understanding
the real meaning
behind
the gesture

so was her
every
“I love you.”

Enough to make an
old boy cry
but he
preferred suicide

Needless to say
her response
was
“Meh.”

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Shock by Bogdan Dragos

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(っゝωᗜ)っ

MasticadoresIndia // Editora: Terveen Gill

Blood spilling down old and molded stone stairs
Image Source: Canva

the three of them stood by the

banks and watched

the water turn

red

So it’s not like in the movies. When

you see someone dying

you don’t burst into

uncontrollable fits of screaming

You stand very still

and watch

and can’t speak

can’t blink

can’t turn away

can’t run

can’t do anything really

Shock is not something that makes

you jump

It’s a cement that stuns you

there was still more and

more blood seeping

from the body impaled in

the jagged rocks. The river

turned red on all directions around it

Death was a scary thing

but not having a stepfather

who sent you to beg in the streets so he

can drink the profits

made up for it

When there was no more

blood to be

carried away by the water

they smiled

All three at once

-BOGDAN DRAGOS

Bogdan Dragos supervises casinos for…

View original post 50 more words

Pisica din papuc

(っ◕‿◕)っ English version HERE

MasticadoresRumanía Editora: Manuela Timofte

de Bogdan Dragoș

Camera era rece
și flori gri de mucegai 
înfloreau pe pereți.
Și-a dat jos papucii
și aceștia fiind cele mai calde
lucruri din cameră
puiul de pisică
se adăposti într-unul din ei.

El stătu pe o saltea în colț
și mângâie pisica
din papuc.
Deodată, zâmbi și zise,
– Eh, măcar n-am datorii.

Până și Dumnezeu
a fost de acord cu el. I-a făcut
cu ochiul
prin gaura din tavan.

Imagine de Adina Voicu de la Pixabay

Volume publicate:

https://bogdandragos.com/

Poem postat inițial pe https://gobblersmasticadores.wordpress.com/

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