Baron wastelands sound the trumpet in the midst of the ghetto, where sobriety gathers in connected ambivalence.
Acknowledge the animism within naturopathic spirituality. I urge you to have explicit ******* with unfamiliar prostitutions, whilst political prowess ingests her toxicities in the guise of oratory genius.
The expulsion of vanity is haunting in its reverence.

Blues guitar has caught us in our transgressions, where the summer blossom splays her beauty like a New Orleans Madame amidst the afterglow of a musky and nocturnal vibrancy.
I have a fully loaded clip on my possession, and I am hungry.
So, shall we begin?
Your carotid artery is pulsating with tense anticipation within the sweet toxicities of a tragic and fretful solo.
There is such a responsibility of being a parent, and you owe me some money.
Let us purchase some Bourbon chicken on this eve of celebratory shame, because I have contemplated the chasm between the West and those who reside on the East coast of vice.
We have much to discuss.

Friday afternoon and the weather was so fine, pink "cotton-candy-like" clouds perfectly dispersed over the bluest sky above us.
Nothing but the whimsical tune of the wind, the melodic songs of the birds and the lost-like buzz of the bees succeeded to make us feel that we were already far from chaos, far from toxicities, and far from the nonsenses of the human world.
Tantalizing like her eyes, the oceans borrowed light from the disappearing Sun that it sparkled like a million of tiny floating diamonds.
Happy, careless and free, we wandered along the tall happy-waving grass and at the cliff-side of the mountain she stopped. She stood right in front of me, she was facing the whole city as the Sun lit her long and wavy hair that it amazingly turned into "pink-red with a few of orange" colour.
Out of her busy-ness staring at the mountain shaped like crocodile, I was there at her back picking some wild flowers while staring at her; smiling, secretly admiring her beauty, yearning I could somehow dive and let myself drown into the cascade of the mystery of her thoughts.
Feeling lost and overjoyed, I threw some of the wild flowers into the thin air and watched it slowly fell freely over the top of my head down into the lonely side of my left toe; it artistically scattered below me, mimes a lost treasure like a boxes of golden key.
Considering the fact that time isn't a friend, and I never really wanted to let go of that moment, I took a photograph of her- standing still with her head gazed up high, her hair's twirling along with the rhythm of the wind whilst her hands clenched unto the corners of her waist- where in that moment I thought would last forever, if only it would last forever, if only I could grasp that moment more longer, and longer, hoping it ends no more.

It is a form of Anchoring, my friend
where someone will provide false scenario i.e. love
heartbreak, perceived relation, unrequited love etc. etc
for the harassment.
Often many possible false rationales and dilutions, disfigurements and toxicities
are planted to keep the victim confused and the focus of the harassment cycles
from one possible reason to another round and around
so as to keep the victim guessing in a self perpetuating guessing game where every scenario is portrait as a valid reality
and aimed to distress or to cause confused stimulations,
self doubt, fear, intimidation
or annoyance and ultimately a cycle of destructive thoughts and frustrations.
Tis the nefarious products of the terminally deranged
on active requirement campaign
to their cesspit of the
The Order of Fallen Lowlife in Certified Insignificant Haze and Daze

Just to get out
Holding my breath from
This detrimental fresh air
Inhaling toxicities at
Anaphylactic proportions
When your suicidal thoughts
Are delusions of setting you free
Don't believe the hype through
Golden plated fronts
Weather we live or die
Somewhere every 24hrs
The sun has the ability
To rise and shine or not
And your skies can still be
Any shade of greyish blue you so choose