Oh no. Everythings' becoming surreal to me again. And that's what i hate most, when everything seems difficult to hold on to, when reality is but a fleeting dream that refuses to be stay within the confines of your mental faculties.
I feel time slowing down. Either that or i'm catching up with time. But that's impossible right, catching up with time? So Time must have slowed down. And time spelt backwards is emit, which means to send out, to expel. This means that time must take in, because that's what it's been doing all this while, taking things in. So hang on to your possessions boys and girls, before you lose it to the terminally insatiable sponge that is time. See, i've lost my marbles already.
The power of social embarrassments is way underrated. It makes you reflect upon your actions and your ineptness. More often than not, it inflicts an irrevocable damage to your posture, one that you can only try so hard to hide under the dirty sheets of cognitive emotivity.
It's scary how often i just sit up and not know what i'm doing. And then i wonder what to do. An involuntary mechanism tells my mind to wander off into a realm that is not totally within my jurisdiction. I play along with a sub-conscience (or is it something more sinister?), and drift along into an endless oblivion. And guess what, i'll then sit up again and realise that i have no idea what i'm doing. Kinda freaky isn't it?
What did the zen monk say when he was ordering a hot dog? Make me one with everything.
Go on, say that i'm funny...
I feel time slowing down. Either that or i'm catching up with time. But that's impossible right, catching up with time? So Time must have slowed down. And time spelt backwards is emit, which means to send out, to expel. This means that time must take in, because that's what it's been doing all this while, taking things in. So hang on to your possessions boys and girls, before you lose it to the terminally insatiable sponge that is time. See, i've lost my marbles already.
The power of social embarrassments is way underrated. It makes you reflect upon your actions and your ineptness. More often than not, it inflicts an irrevocable damage to your posture, one that you can only try so hard to hide under the dirty sheets of cognitive emotivity.
It's scary how often i just sit up and not know what i'm doing. And then i wonder what to do. An involuntary mechanism tells my mind to wander off into a realm that is not totally within my jurisdiction. I play along with a sub-conscience (or is it something more sinister?), and drift along into an endless oblivion. And guess what, i'll then sit up again and realise that i have no idea what i'm doing. Kinda freaky isn't it?
What did the zen monk say when he was ordering a hot dog? Make me one with everything.
Go on, say that i'm funny...
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