Lazy from C-Z

Aloe vera. Cappuccino. Fortune. One was to numb away the fears and the others to suffocate it. Suffocate it to a point of no recognition, until we are all back to numbing it all back down. But the fears are here to stay, no matter the course, no matter the destination. So many calls to diversify, some to compartmentalise, and many endeavour to rise above. The consequences irregardless are a moot point. We are at a precipice of a dynamic stagnation, constantly moving to and fro unceasingly towards the same fucking stupid shitpiece. The more things change , the more things remain the same , or so it goes. Sriracha. Honey. Sunflower. Ani went home with a noticeably more calm demeanour, for two days in a row now, no frills. It would have been surprising had it not been for the most obvious of sobriquets. Lydia, she says, named after her grandmother, as tears well up in her droopy and tired eyes. I frown in contempt at the helplessness of it all. There is no need to contest it, I reckon, o

Just as I was about to gain a little bit of traction, something somehow somewhere brews outside of the peripheries that demand a sense of chaotic tendency that no decree of decorum can surcease. It is beyond my ken. Regardless of the outflow of good, nothing overall sticks in the long run. One can only hope that letting go is never the refuge, and why should it be? Solitude when all was just hitting stride is the most disconcerting bother that I cannot fathom why it even persists in the first place. Worlds apart in a lifetime of vagabondry, too disattached from the reality of peaceful idealism. Time tick tick ticks tock to the end of the finish line, often too soon, often diabolically underestimated in its affectations. War never changes, personal or otherwise. War often misunderstood. War for the sake of it. And death, constant death amongst us all around. All around me, literally and figuratively.