Sometimes, I steal liquor from my parents cabinet.
vodka. whiskey. rum. 
it doesn't matter, really. 
Not as long as the alcohol does what it does
i.e. give me a break from myself.
the intoxication is an excuse.
let go. unwind. loosen up. 
I blare music through the speakers.
Turn the volume up,
jazz. rock. blues. 
I mouth the words, at first. 
But as the djinns gently lead me to madness,
I scream them out. 
joy. euphoria. happiness. 
The spirits take control of my legs, 
drawing me into a wild tango with the wind.
whirl. twirl. spin. 
I wonder why.
Why i need to be so out of my senses to make sense of it all?
Sometimes, I steal liquor from my parents cabinet.
thrill. adrenaline. titillation.
well, sometimes I embrace my nonchalance.
Forcing the gears of my mind to a standstill.
Taking shots of happiness, undiluted. 
Ignoring the impossibility of it all. 
invincible. invulnerable. indestructible. indestructible.

oh tempora! o mores!

My thoughts have a way of reverberating through my skull, 
they flit around embracing each idea like it's their last.
It's much like a one night stand, I suppose?
Passionate but limited,
like the finitude in infinity.
My thoughts have a way of resonating with music
...amplified through a boombox. 
They dance to its rhythm,  
melding in a melancholic waltz
(much like the ocean does the sky.)
Sometimes, the outside is too hushed. 
I retreat into my head.
In hopes of chaos, 
In hopes of conflict,
In hopes of calm. 
Chaotic calm. 
All that embraces me is silence. 
Such disquieting silence.