TheStarOnIR
Bluelighter
- Joined
- Feb 10, 2013
- Messages
- 61
I want to ask someone any one,
-When does it all end, when can I rest. Not tonight so I'll crawl through the fire and sleep when I die. Life is a crazy constantly changing thing. I was once a doer a finisher and never a dreamer. The liberals and the lazy they always lose. Two things happen, while I'm fulfilling what others are dreaming, I crush the competitions. Now I'm just another negligent narcissistic shit head with a substantial liquidity at my disposal.
-Funny the way it is; life's strange way of unintentionally conveying ironic signs. These maybe meaningless but to be fair - maybe not, ironic signs present themselves at precise and perfect times, places, all circumstantial in direct correlation to you, your life, the current issue (if there in fact is one) and resolution or cure for reference.
-I can’t speak for everyone but it always happens to me when I am radiating in disappointment. When I'm so fucking mentally low and lacking that will to live righteously. Too often this occurs in for lack of better words life's warfare.
When I'm low that I constantly just loathe, I then find a way to become High in heavens sky via FDA approved speed, which seems to be my ticket to paradise. I get so tweaked out essentially I scramble for quick easement.
-So tell me, is it the lucrative "correct" way of maintaining myself? Probably not, regardless it’s my way and it I have effectively and continue to do so as best I know how.
-Nothing more than another Bar-Stool Prophecy at my very best. Vigorously consuming-beer to beer-to beer - in a swift effort to effectively drink my way into sobriety.
-Then suddenly as you painstakingly force toxic cloudy urine from a shriveled cock in the little boys filthy bathroom; this I must say and I do so representing all of us I'm sure. A man’s most viable time to review the life lead in general and in short term description dwell on the continuing conglomeration of frivolity and recklessness An ever so risky way to live, but the satisfaction of instant gratification in the little blue capsule I can't help but to occasionally consume. These times of adversity unfortunately reoccur too often.
-Steadfast firm tight grip, knees bent a bit. I am drawn back by the plunge. Jittered and Confused with a 101.3 degree fever, dry elastic skin flushed bright red, and significantly malnourished, yet still mind on a quick temporary inquisitions - A young to middle age broad w/ low rate of attraction just as miserable and desperate as I- now becomes a steal of a deal.
-All of the typical girls, the high class, lovely little lying ladies become "Out of my League" this to blame on the drug fueled chaos, otherwise I'd so effortlessly pull at peek the gorgeous pointless promiscuous piece of top shelf pussy. Not in the comedown though.
-The Neurological State is at a High-Risk point now. My catecholamine’s and flowing dopamine significantly dwindling and becoming less and less Euphoric I'm sure very dangerously unbalanced. All of my Neurotransmitters are quickly misfiring, synaptic not conducive. This implicating neurotransmission of all Cerebral Chemical Flow conveys a very near crash at a rate so fast the come down will be detrimental, an anticipated burner I foresee.
-My mind still flying 90 to nothing, plus the 52 hour non-stop streak of toxic concoctions and unprotected sex. All to define in detail a life of the rare but existing "Modern Day Massuer."
-Its then I hear a sweet serenity of musical composure that generously spoken, to be quite honest it's a just good enough rendition of --The Eagles-- "Desperado"-- It's catchy melodic tune begins to play and I realize suddenly; its lyrics are somehow relative to the concurrent conduction that I've maintained, how I should just "come to my senses." Seems so damn relevant if only I had any sense to reference to it just excuses the relevance and I continue to rock on.
-This in all of its inglorious ridiculousness seems as somewhat of an inadvertent ascription a sign and it never fails to be significantly ironic. The Half-Ass cover plays while I have now initiated legitimacy in this flow which is now masking the underlying illness probably conveyed once within my urine for now the booze has brought clarity to the cloudy stream that I had previously excreted all day.
-These weird signals we become aware every now and then never seize to amaze me. I being naturally superfluous in terms analytical dissection- Admittedly I will say makes up for a large majority of all that I do. I detail things, I’m up and I’m down per my state mentally at the time. Addiction isn't the case, I binge through bad times. Though wrongful, I do it anyways.
-The fact of the matter is, here I reside in the land of the lotus eaters, I'm so disgusted with myself and I'm not entirely unhappy about that. Sure, I'm mutilated by misery, I lost the love of my life I rarely see my daughter, all I have now is this obscene amount of money I've managed to earn in the service rendered to the Mighty, Throbbing Erection of Corporate America, The most successful cocks-man ever.
-Sex, money, and drugs are the Tylenol of life. It's just a temporary alleviation from the real life gift of adversity. I'm so tired that I can't sleep; I hope I find peace for just one night. This success means nothing without the love that I lost. It's gone, I'm gone, and all that was beautiful is now beaten to death by my ability to disappoint all those around me.
-I believe in happy endings, I think it's the unhappy ones that get a bad rep. They are just as real and interesting as the happy ones. Things fall apart, they break, and that’s life. In the end whether it’s me hoping and wishing for my family back or kicking dirt, become inebriated via alcohol Infused libation it's all a part of the plan. Everything happens for a reason, satisfaction is the eternal death of desire. Wine is fine but whiskey is quicker and a lot more tolerated in a delinquent community by night.
-She won't always love you no matter what. Harsh lessons learned it was the best of times it was the worst of times. Fuck it, two words that led me to a lengthily law suit I lost, a family I lost. Still I’ve got my money, a way with words although excessive and pedantic, I sit and wonder if I’ll ever stop serving these golden dreams on silver platters. So I ask you all- To quote the clash- "Should I stay or should I go" because at this point I have no real understanding of anything anymore. Nowhereland, Alabama has no help credible enough to save me from myself... Otherwise I’m only left to ease the pain and have another drink I presume, Cheers!
-When does it all end, when can I rest. Not tonight so I'll crawl through the fire and sleep when I die. Life is a crazy constantly changing thing. I was once a doer a finisher and never a dreamer. The liberals and the lazy they always lose. Two things happen, while I'm fulfilling what others are dreaming, I crush the competitions. Now I'm just another negligent narcissistic shit head with a substantial liquidity at my disposal.
-Funny the way it is; life's strange way of unintentionally conveying ironic signs. These maybe meaningless but to be fair - maybe not, ironic signs present themselves at precise and perfect times, places, all circumstantial in direct correlation to you, your life, the current issue (if there in fact is one) and resolution or cure for reference.
-I can’t speak for everyone but it always happens to me when I am radiating in disappointment. When I'm so fucking mentally low and lacking that will to live righteously. Too often this occurs in for lack of better words life's warfare.
When I'm low that I constantly just loathe, I then find a way to become High in heavens sky via FDA approved speed, which seems to be my ticket to paradise. I get so tweaked out essentially I scramble for quick easement.
-So tell me, is it the lucrative "correct" way of maintaining myself? Probably not, regardless it’s my way and it I have effectively and continue to do so as best I know how.
-Nothing more than another Bar-Stool Prophecy at my very best. Vigorously consuming-beer to beer-to beer - in a swift effort to effectively drink my way into sobriety.
-Then suddenly as you painstakingly force toxic cloudy urine from a shriveled cock in the little boys filthy bathroom; this I must say and I do so representing all of us I'm sure. A man’s most viable time to review the life lead in general and in short term description dwell on the continuing conglomeration of frivolity and recklessness An ever so risky way to live, but the satisfaction of instant gratification in the little blue capsule I can't help but to occasionally consume. These times of adversity unfortunately reoccur too often.
-Steadfast firm tight grip, knees bent a bit. I am drawn back by the plunge. Jittered and Confused with a 101.3 degree fever, dry elastic skin flushed bright red, and significantly malnourished, yet still mind on a quick temporary inquisitions - A young to middle age broad w/ low rate of attraction just as miserable and desperate as I- now becomes a steal of a deal.
-All of the typical girls, the high class, lovely little lying ladies become "Out of my League" this to blame on the drug fueled chaos, otherwise I'd so effortlessly pull at peek the gorgeous pointless promiscuous piece of top shelf pussy. Not in the comedown though.
-The Neurological State is at a High-Risk point now. My catecholamine’s and flowing dopamine significantly dwindling and becoming less and less Euphoric I'm sure very dangerously unbalanced. All of my Neurotransmitters are quickly misfiring, synaptic not conducive. This implicating neurotransmission of all Cerebral Chemical Flow conveys a very near crash at a rate so fast the come down will be detrimental, an anticipated burner I foresee.
-My mind still flying 90 to nothing, plus the 52 hour non-stop streak of toxic concoctions and unprotected sex. All to define in detail a life of the rare but existing "Modern Day Massuer."
-Its then I hear a sweet serenity of musical composure that generously spoken, to be quite honest it's a just good enough rendition of --The Eagles-- "Desperado"-- It's catchy melodic tune begins to play and I realize suddenly; its lyrics are somehow relative to the concurrent conduction that I've maintained, how I should just "come to my senses." Seems so damn relevant if only I had any sense to reference to it just excuses the relevance and I continue to rock on.
-This in all of its inglorious ridiculousness seems as somewhat of an inadvertent ascription a sign and it never fails to be significantly ironic. The Half-Ass cover plays while I have now initiated legitimacy in this flow which is now masking the underlying illness probably conveyed once within my urine for now the booze has brought clarity to the cloudy stream that I had previously excreted all day.
-These weird signals we become aware every now and then never seize to amaze me. I being naturally superfluous in terms analytical dissection- Admittedly I will say makes up for a large majority of all that I do. I detail things, I’m up and I’m down per my state mentally at the time. Addiction isn't the case, I binge through bad times. Though wrongful, I do it anyways.
-The fact of the matter is, here I reside in the land of the lotus eaters, I'm so disgusted with myself and I'm not entirely unhappy about that. Sure, I'm mutilated by misery, I lost the love of my life I rarely see my daughter, all I have now is this obscene amount of money I've managed to earn in the service rendered to the Mighty, Throbbing Erection of Corporate America, The most successful cocks-man ever.
-Sex, money, and drugs are the Tylenol of life. It's just a temporary alleviation from the real life gift of adversity. I'm so tired that I can't sleep; I hope I find peace for just one night. This success means nothing without the love that I lost. It's gone, I'm gone, and all that was beautiful is now beaten to death by my ability to disappoint all those around me.
-I believe in happy endings, I think it's the unhappy ones that get a bad rep. They are just as real and interesting as the happy ones. Things fall apart, they break, and that’s life. In the end whether it’s me hoping and wishing for my family back or kicking dirt, become inebriated via alcohol Infused libation it's all a part of the plan. Everything happens for a reason, satisfaction is the eternal death of desire. Wine is fine but whiskey is quicker and a lot more tolerated in a delinquent community by night.
-She won't always love you no matter what. Harsh lessons learned it was the best of times it was the worst of times. Fuck it, two words that led me to a lengthily law suit I lost, a family I lost. Still I’ve got my money, a way with words although excessive and pedantic, I sit and wonder if I’ll ever stop serving these golden dreams on silver platters. So I ask you all- To quote the clash- "Should I stay or should I go" because at this point I have no real understanding of anything anymore. Nowhereland, Alabama has no help credible enough to save me from myself... Otherwise I’m only left to ease the pain and have another drink I presume, Cheers!
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