random 4

its 9.07pm and i am suffering from a debilitating brain aneurism . my brain is still in the platform and hasn't come up with any power to write something. the inner is psychometric and my search for excellence is still in isle.deterring my thinking inch to inch. am at loss of some intelligent phrasing..went outside to gorge some food..my belly now counts small small nibble of masala dosa if i ruminate it like a cow. always i taught myself to be in a grid lock when it comes to feelings. but from evening my head is like a welkin,still i cant come up with some phrase.still i cant brave myself to debauch this snippet with abundance details. i am beastly sick to think and write now. i wanna keep the mystery rumbling inside my chrome.cynically fucked with thoughts.defective nutrition.. defective life.. defective brewing desires ..sometime i like to make some imaginary lines but i dunno how you will take the ugly side of me :/