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Mateuš Conrad Oct 2018
oh sure sure, because Burroughs
didn't exactly celebrate his
****** addiction in his writing...
what's there, not to celebrate?
alcoholic or not,
              i enjoy the masochism
involved in the recuperation period
of, the next day,
for about two hours,
before i come to my senses and
retain some form eloquence...
my English verbose plush...
              of a tangerine, or a plum...
but hey...
        no one says to a painter:
too many colors, or...
  not enough colors...
    but i'm pretty sure that
         Mozart was criticized...
in that film: Amadeus...
         by Emperor Leopold II...
too many notes... too many musical
notes...
          ****... well...
let's just listen to the ambient music
of the refrigerator's drone hum,
snooze, buzz and frizz.
Sin Aug 2018
Sometimes i wish i could go back to the end of 2015 and the very beginning of 2016. I don’t remember having very many deep emotions or overwhelming feelings i just remember floating on top of everything. The only big emotion i really remember having was when i got my first real feelings for a girl.
I used to stay up reading wattpad stories and the only song i would listen to was lost boy. I dreamed of being in love one day, and i would wake up everyday thinking of a new way i can finally talk to her. It all seemed so simple. I was so innocent, so pure. My hair was down to my waist, straight as could be, tamed and frizz free. I didn’t know anything, i was blind, i was excited to be alive, i had no idea one day my hair would be at my shoulders and my life would take a turn. Now i take pain killers because i don’t want to be in pain anymore and i always check the weather before i visit the cutter.
I hope it’s not all over, i hope some of my innocence is still there, i hope it’s not all gone forever,
i hope my hair grows back to where it once were.
4:12 am

— The End —