Monday, May 9, 2011

napkin scrabble and the possibility of neurotoxic damage

The look is very much an illusion through the presence and blurred rows of hour-glasses and mirrored omni-elliptical translucency, but I digress. They stare at me in ultimate lies with the company of valor; however, they are only roused dreams and remain unnecessary to me. Those coughs of silent answers; so coy; so somniferous. The balance is dead weight for there is no balance. There is no formality. So how does one seek this sense of judgment? How does one find forgiveness? Egalitarianism? We are just mutated forms trapped in a dream through some sort of self-righteous existence. Through indecency. To be alone is to die by your own rule though made up or stolen through the truth of the like.

“If consequences dictate your course of action, it doesn’t what’s right. It’s only wrong if you get caught.” MJK