here.

drunk.
stoned.
tired.
again.
this is it man,
that cold sweat seems like your soul
is crying those tears drenched
long dried up inside..

love it all you can
here is the phenomena
just this..

you must've consumed what propels
wonders to the unfortunate
who turn away and feel far behind
undecided
all alone
and eyelids closed.
this bland turmoil, this thing of beauty
not only
does it reincarnate to the self death,
it is reassuring;

that probably hapiness
is beyond and defined
only in these succeeding moments
without control,
without body,
and with contour..

now that im writing,
its all quite untrivial
i should've thought of
something else,
oh but that beer
and damn that joint;
tapos kain tangina,
it purifies your senseless
and premature providence.

dowsing
my intimate hobby in wasting time.
let this not be often,
it is a humble blessing
from something else.