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, loud, louder. 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. sometimes, 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.
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.