Drunk

The striking string bells went inside my throat and surprisingly the object/subject went smooth and gushed inside my stomach making my stomach fulfilled. Drinking water helps the fulfilment to subside and share the space with yesterday's cabbage soup and many various medicines that affects my immunity and drastically shapes my psychological aura. Performing while drinking alcohol is a tricky situation which requires clever stance and tactics because you are forcing yourself to be normal again and perhaps discouraging identity to subvert the new perplexed organism that you have become or are becoming. Silence, serenity and drugs and pure divine nipples which are maddening to see and drastically seductive to men who like 'dogs' want to rip apart everything. You now like rage consuming dreams that had the entelechy to come alive, oh my oh my oh my oh my oh my so many journals have been written and hands have moved all the pages both virtually and physically and metaphysically and non-metaphysically.

Help me god, oh wait I can do it myself so maybe later, I guess.

To combine nature with man is harmful for aliens that are watching us from space, there are individuals with super intellect which they do not categorize but rather share it to feed their infants unlike us who believe in words and quotes and books and posters. Aliens might be like us but with their brains downside, almost like an almond with no skin and multiple bruised patches that sustain even after a carefully eclectic encounter with what would be an end but not yet, not. 

A dark alley with a duck sitting idle licking a scoop of it's vanilla ice cream, the day gets darker and it's not day anymore as each lick shift the paradigm of light turning it's shade clockwise, or a mere vacillation between what constitutes a day and night though the duck doesn't care because it's primary interest is in the scoop of that melting ice cream. Similarly the relevance or objectivity of one's persistence befalls on importance and prioritisation regardless or larger issues irrespective of them being important or not, the moment in which one indulges supersedes all the other matters.

Moving aside, this post is just going to be out there amidst millions of other posts and trillions of words, like algae in the pool which is unattended to like forever.

To render love as a disguise, to express it through art only to see it destroy everything around you in the name of what you once thought would work because it was multifaceted and had potential. The fading sense of hopelessness and late night green tea makes the brain accentuate towards 'what you once thought'. The essence of life is all but permissible and permeable to both ways of ascending and descending moments, there is no stage of completion or what one would call conclusion that's the theme with living and living everyday.

Even if you try it would not turn out as you expect/want it to be rather instead of trying what if you let it steer on its own so that the onus falls, just falls and sits somewhere without the conscience of culpability on thyself and others. The strange fascination of completion and ushering sense of joy is but a mystery which cannot be coerced but only self-reflected. This self reflection can sabotage your relationship and might even destroy the status quo around you but I guess that's the thing with status quo, you eliminate it once and another one takes it place. Fine lucid moments of threat and hostility seems to accentuate the individual flakes of being flawed and what better way to indulge into it but through self-awareness?

There were once two friends, one who extremely enjoyed the arbitrariness of everyday the other was just critical of everything. There were moments of inefficiency and encounters with tough spots but never did it seems to stop them from being themselves, one maintained that apple glee and the other sour tamarind. The complexity is never exemplified but rather just sustains and just survives unless you would have that itch to deliberately insinuate something towards the direction of complexity only then would the question of 'being complex' arrives and make itself known and visible.

Mr Peanutbutter with Diane (Bojack Horseman, Season 1 Episode 12)