
I'm drinking plain water. There is nothing like plain water. Just plain water. Not mineral water. No aftertaste. No no. Plain. Kosong. Zilch. Nada. Noodoo. Zalapangkoh. Zatazutu. Zizizuzu. Haha. Man I'm not going crazy. It would be really claustrophobic to go crazy. What if you're just stuck in crazy thoughts if you go crazy. You try to be normal but you're stuck with crazy thoughts and actions. That would be disastrous. Imagine that. Wow. I can't. It's freaking me out right now. It's like being in a fucked up dream you can't wake up out of. Sometimes I wish I could retreat deep into my mind and just chill there. Let me move and do shit like I always do, but me is inside my mind just chillin'. If I could play with shit that exist in my imagination it would be pretty dope too. Cause my imagination knows no boundaries when it comes to women.
If I was a jumper, I would jump out of myself into someone else and just live life somewhere else for fucks. I could jump back to my real self time after time just to check on things. Once I get too used to somewhere it will become too familiar and the novelty would be gone. Time to move on. But sometimes familiarity keeps you sane for no reason other than comfort. Haha, I'm writing all this as if it makes sense and I'm sounding really wise when in reality I sound like a douchebag. But people usually can't tell the difference. Play it safe and you will get nothing. Be a cunt and sometimes you can just get what you want. There I go again trying to sound like I know anything at all about life. There I go again trying to sound edgy by acting like I'm not oblivious to what I'm trying to go do again. Wow. Full circle. It's 6:54 AM.
Blame the fucking time.
The point is this life is food, sex and power. We think about those all the time. Especially when taking a shit, whether we realize it or not.
Because everytime you take a shit, every piece pumped out, means chocolate stains below, but cloudy smokes of thoughtful thinking released upstairs. It's like a sigh of relief let
fly in the form of small bubble clouds. Wow. Can you imagine that.
Can you? If you can't............. "shut the fuck up, you're wrong, kayyy? kayyyyyyyyyyyyy"
Experience has numbed my sense of magic. But no experience can bury completely my sense of hope for magic.


No comments:
Post a Comment