do i miss living alone in my attic which i moved to from my former lair the pink cave. do i miss being manipulated into buying provisions for very normal looking alley cats who practice the fine arts of japanese self-defense and spend all afternoon macking on whitish catty femmes. maybe yes maybe no maybe between yes and no. maybe between two maybes, which would basically be just another maybe in which case this sentence just wasted your time not that it was not already wasted reading this awfully time-wasting waster of a blog.
i do recall having a certain morning infatuation with a certain mee hoon ganja. why ganja? cause it feels good to submit to its essence but at the same time i'm not exactly addicted to it. what do i know about submitting to a form of essence? i think i do, a bit, now, at least. what do i know about addiction? oh i'm pretty sure i do, now, addicted to a certain shade of color.
i quite recall being under attack this evening by a swarm of source of light-obsessed sky-bound thinsects. no, i still haven't figured out the english name for these creatures. as declared on my ever ignored twitter presence, i summoned my army of micro macrosses. ahhh macross, mmm childhood.
do i not think in random directions anymore, probably. is this a blessing, probably. probably the result of not inhibiting somewhere with purple skies, manipulative felines, and narcotically-enhanced food. probably the result of shedding more than one third of my former gravity-bound inclinator count. don't google that term i just spewed from my ever spewing jungle of exist as none and none so ever existing trees. i am beyond saving, in other words, i am beyond googling. google my knowledge and you will get a planet dedicated to habitating factories engineering clone troopers constituted from heredity strands of existening-inexistence in existence. i am clouds that appear not from risen air but from a, well, just, to, put, it, simply... appearance.
i am being chased and even though i am the hunted i do not think of myself as a victim. i hope you won't think of yourself as one too, despite all the wearying hunting. i do not even agree with that depicted as the dynamics of this. perhaps we'll take turns with the fur hat. we'll take breathers and after each time we'll come back with hearts full of collective yearn. if we can't lick the skies each day surf the cosmos each night, let's just be boring together.
most of what i've written here were conceived during the full five minutes of me walking up and down the stairs stopping halfway at the bottom to drink a glass of milk.
it definitely took more than five minutes to type-in. think about it.
there's really nothing to think about. thinking is overrated. let's do underrated things and get back to overrated at our conveniences. let's always be convenient. so we won't have to be too hollywood. it's tiring to think of a soundtrack when we could just hum together melodies that will surround our ever expanding possibility.
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