Taste of nicotine,
Smell of sun-heated cement
thought that tomorrow's friday
a definition or better the lack of one
then again...
irony of everything I could've had if I could've been strikes me
[pop up window - breeze of vital emotional stimulus]
thoughts, thoughts thoughts
.. the effect deep insight has on ignorance and oblivion
shadowy figure lying next to me
how substantial a smell can be and the memories it revokes
when desire wins all battles, logic retreats deep in the subconscious
mouthful of censored words, question- pause
wrongful impression of timelessness, beat , beat, beat uncomfortable time consciousness
soft skin, heart beat, beat beat, beat.. nirvana? most certaintly not!
thoughts of moral [miss]conduct, stifness, inexistend interpretations
desire? could be - must be- just be!
descisions, beat, beat uncomfortable time consiousness
unfruitful efforts to translate the magic of my very moment into words [moment of eternal hapiness?!]
clarification, once again reminder of injustice, emotional waste, sentimental discharge
going to bed.. bye
sudden realization: nobody and most importantly somebody doesn't care
lack of capacity to captivate attention
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