something funny, something not so funny
I could not sleep though I drank my mug of nighty night snooze tea, it had mislead me. A great injustice has been committed and can only be formally corrected by a disclaimer presented on this box of tea. "This product should not be taken by anyone who has obsession compulsion, a tendency of an overall haphazard psyche, and liver or kidney problems. If you are someone who cannot fall asleep at night because your brain is continually stimulating itself with copious "crackpot" schemes, then we recommend you consult a box of Dramamine and a glass of water". At least then the fabrication is blurred with truth(though it could be disputed that this is just another state of mind); otherwise known as schizophrenia. Furthermore, we cannot be held responsible for your lack of conscience and cannot reimburse the 4.95 you wasted*cough* spent on this product. Thank you and come again"
I hugged the pillow so tight, the feeling was always too accurate. constantly too small or too large, and the grain was too gruff. As my body became the sinking sand in the sheets I realized, this bed is void. I knew of what, that thought lingering in the back of my mind, I saw her for a moment silhouetted across a bed with rays of impermanence trickling down her face. It was just the sheets, in the end its always just the sheets. Yet this hope existed in me, that I could independently ail what hungers me. I spread out across the bed, my arms and feet dancing from the edges. In all likelyhood I don't know why I actually thought I would succeed. My head was bamboozled by my feet, and there was no other warmth coming to give me a "fix" or at least from this vicinity. Everything was too polarized, it captured my mind in a web of restless. There was no color, only lackluster thoughts and feeling that don't really know how to articulate themselves. Its all just a visage, carefully manufactured for an optical illusion . And when the sun rises on your newly furnished room, the light rays reveal what reality is; the absence of.
I hugged the pillow so tight, the feeling was always too accurate. constantly too small or too large, and the grain was too gruff. As my body became the sinking sand in the sheets I realized, this bed is void. I knew of what, that thought lingering in the back of my mind, I saw her for a moment silhouetted across a bed with rays of impermanence trickling down her face. It was just the sheets, in the end its always just the sheets. Yet this hope existed in me, that I could independently ail what hungers me. I spread out across the bed, my arms and feet dancing from the edges. In all likelyhood I don't know why I actually thought I would succeed. My head was bamboozled by my feet, and there was no other warmth coming to give me a "fix" or at least from this vicinity. Everything was too polarized, it captured my mind in a web of restless. There was no color, only lackluster thoughts and feeling that don't really know how to articulate themselves. Its all just a visage, carefully manufactured for an optical illusion . And when the sun rises on your newly furnished room, the light rays reveal what reality is; the absence of.