Inadvertently, I could say that I've been good - having saying that, well, formalities aside, present is a diversity of habitual tendencies and a much obliged happy foreboding omen, which although at times is portrayed as an irregular mutual emotional state, almost like a cascading yet calm and comforting misleading demeanor.
Nonetheless, almost just as equitable with nothing to next, the most insanely ridiculous, unexpected and unfortunate occurrence just decided to drop in my laps right between my penalty spot, somewhere a little bit earlier this week. *sigh* With all the commotional laughter strewn across a series of compositional homogeneous events, constantly, regardless, I still somehow managed to be a part of - or rather when noted as a more withdrawed conventional notion that would but by direct means, without anything intervening and also in which its qualities can afford, make me a victim of an unknown conceptual circumstance. Collectively, beyond a doubt, I’m left with an intelligent fatuous display of characteristics.
Tracing my crumbs back to the moment where I had so nonchalantly misplaced my wallet, unknowingly to my own futile dismal, the bolts of lingering reflections cracks the mucky soils of mother earth to no avail. Amusingly, I can't even seem to remember when I last had set eyes on that ill-fated apparatus. Talking about a reckless reserve parading around a catastrophic memory lapse. Enfer foutu. In latitude of awe, none of my reasoning’s was making much sense anymore. Honestly, it was in a kennel of anguish that I found myself bleeding with distress, drooping over the mantel pane’s of hell’s kitchen. Consumed by a predisposition to snigger at the devil, I just had to adulate the fact that it was conveniently the end of the fucking month. The wages of the immediate month was indefinitely heretofore snuggled cozily beneath my financial blanket, wincing at the abominable Sandman as the ticks become irrepressibly louder by the minute.
Groping between the hammer and the anvil, perked on a possum tree, still the fruits of my drudgery bore no tale of reason in which a return to the sands of my adolescence would deplore an acute illogical tantrum to shut my eyes, clench my fists and scream towards the open heavens. I guess I'm still pretty guttered up about the whole affair right now. I must come to some insolent conclusion that I am prerogatively allowed to provide refuge to a few supplementary happy thoughts. Well, else, I got to drag myself to the nearest possible consciousness and make amends with the little china dolls with tilting wooden heads whom I used to call friends once again.
As the days are swallowed by time, the fractional patience complimenting my self-indulgence becomes more and more criminally inclined to surge out into the moody atmosphere and tear down every last strand of my looming fortress. Gasping for breath, I can only concur to the retreats of my sultry steps and in retort to many countless failed attempts, I slowly begin to recompose my equilibrium, reeking of anxiety as I cradle my soul to sleep. Come what may, three cheers spills out for the four wheel drives and if I could just hail the angels for their smiles upon me this very day, as even though the hours continue to pledge a discontented endeavour, the scorching sun nevertheless at end of day, falls once again into the laps of this sombre world. Embowed upon the crescent of the modest moon, the faded lights in the hailing distance plays erratic tricks on my weary eyes. I blink into the naked twilight, squinting my eyes in scrutiny.
Cringe, swagger, tremble, flout. Bones to twitches as heads crumpled into knots. The old chestnut tree in the backyard breaks a fecal branch off, descending into a scatter of unanimated twigs below. Meanwhile, dead leaves paints the ground with autumn ruffles while misgiving winds offers solace to a plague of crowded hearts. Alas, where art thou, where in slumbers rest doth thou be laid. Alas, ah but alas. Like a heartbeat, a page of a decade sweeps over us, composed in the heavens as a consonance of lights unlike the writings on the walls of reality that tell a story of retribution and malice. Retrospectively, a faint of gloom is shadowed upon the endless shores of saints, then does not pretty be wed the bride as a cloud of hope declines into a blanket of stars.
Nonetheless, almost just as equitable with nothing to next, the most insanely ridiculous, unexpected and unfortunate occurrence just decided to drop in my laps right between my penalty spot, somewhere a little bit earlier this week. *sigh* With all the commotional laughter strewn across a series of compositional homogeneous events, constantly, regardless, I still somehow managed to be a part of - or rather when noted as a more withdrawed conventional notion that would but by direct means, without anything intervening and also in which its qualities can afford, make me a victim of an unknown conceptual circumstance. Collectively, beyond a doubt, I’m left with an intelligent fatuous display of characteristics.
Tracing my crumbs back to the moment where I had so nonchalantly misplaced my wallet, unknowingly to my own futile dismal, the bolts of lingering reflections cracks the mucky soils of mother earth to no avail. Amusingly, I can't even seem to remember when I last had set eyes on that ill-fated apparatus. Talking about a reckless reserve parading around a catastrophic memory lapse. Enfer foutu. In latitude of awe, none of my reasoning’s was making much sense anymore. Honestly, it was in a kennel of anguish that I found myself bleeding with distress, drooping over the mantel pane’s of hell’s kitchen. Consumed by a predisposition to snigger at the devil, I just had to adulate the fact that it was conveniently the end of the fucking month. The wages of the immediate month was indefinitely heretofore snuggled cozily beneath my financial blanket, wincing at the abominable Sandman as the ticks become irrepressibly louder by the minute.
Groping between the hammer and the anvil, perked on a possum tree, still the fruits of my drudgery bore no tale of reason in which a return to the sands of my adolescence would deplore an acute illogical tantrum to shut my eyes, clench my fists and scream towards the open heavens. I guess I'm still pretty guttered up about the whole affair right now. I must come to some insolent conclusion that I am prerogatively allowed to provide refuge to a few supplementary happy thoughts. Well, else, I got to drag myself to the nearest possible consciousness and make amends with the little china dolls with tilting wooden heads whom I used to call friends once again.
As the days are swallowed by time, the fractional patience complimenting my self-indulgence becomes more and more criminally inclined to surge out into the moody atmosphere and tear down every last strand of my looming fortress. Gasping for breath, I can only concur to the retreats of my sultry steps and in retort to many countless failed attempts, I slowly begin to recompose my equilibrium, reeking of anxiety as I cradle my soul to sleep. Come what may, three cheers spills out for the four wheel drives and if I could just hail the angels for their smiles upon me this very day, as even though the hours continue to pledge a discontented endeavour, the scorching sun nevertheless at end of day, falls once again into the laps of this sombre world. Embowed upon the crescent of the modest moon, the faded lights in the hailing distance plays erratic tricks on my weary eyes. I blink into the naked twilight, squinting my eyes in scrutiny.
Cringe, swagger, tremble, flout. Bones to twitches as heads crumpled into knots. The old chestnut tree in the backyard breaks a fecal branch off, descending into a scatter of unanimated twigs below. Meanwhile, dead leaves paints the ground with autumn ruffles while misgiving winds offers solace to a plague of crowded hearts. Alas, where art thou, where in slumbers rest doth thou be laid. Alas, ah but alas. Like a heartbeat, a page of a decade sweeps over us, composed in the heavens as a consonance of lights unlike the writings on the walls of reality that tell a story of retribution and malice. Retrospectively, a faint of gloom is shadowed upon the endless shores of saints, then does not pretty be wed the bride as a cloud of hope declines into a blanket of stars.
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