you feeling fine

Back from a blogging hiatus. Like an everyday creche i was been played. Somehow i liked it. Really this year till now resonated to all positive vibes and falling on the mainframe. Some cumbersome alters here and there. Fragile dreams moulded into reality. Many hand scribed list were turned to give a nostalgia tread lane. Things oh my my. People croaked and made me deaf. i needed a messenger to carry all the thoughts and mental tribulation i was churning. Resentment later on were fishing out and making a smile arc. I was on cloud no 9. Many dreaded monster of my own creation carrying trident of intelligent phrasing were ON. Some feeble and genteel work need to be posted and hope i will stream it down. My head and people. grey cell functioning from the wrapped silver foiled . A multidimensional rack to be made. I was tired ,most of the time how many wild thoughts were swarming from my barren head and went live . brainstorming with a morbid lerve for a hideous yet embroiled with stark definition and ambiguities. My life is a more of a lover`s chapter and school of thoughts, thoughts which only tickle my way of self visionary. Palpable to people..i wanna be like a butterfly . oh god but why i sometime feel like i am dwelling in a warped multidimensional .I think i am being nudged quite often like a hideous devil’s wife.For me ,for you, for us ,you penned as morbid lover’s definition. I detest this abhorrence. This feeling of self pensive is more demanding like a prevalent illusion. Life seems like a verdict so unpleasant..Sizzling with chalice of loathe.i need my voice back . i need my words back .panacea of worldly assortment. I need a freedom from the resonating wicked vibrations. I want freedom in my own submission. Actually a feeling where we know nothing. Right in the epiphany moment where i am embracing all the absolute buses of randomness. I want to sing within myself. I want to be happy inside my own dripping womb. A fruit of beautiful self - righteous delusion. I want to speak the language to the corner of my head. I want to practise a self abomination haha yeah broken hearts occur in pairs and twosome. Fuck why do i care. A changed womb. My soul is too old now like a postcard stamp. My face is a address bar for you comopolised big apples of society. Fuck why do i care. Oh god.my life is not your paris live.i am a virgin which uncannily smells of of pretty pink and bloody red infatuation.Ah i am blabbing like a poetic moondust . still lost in the multidimensional or dimensional tribulation . i still sing the same song. Ufff..