sitting on the couch, not able to think about anything. once again floating in the middle of nowhere and go on floating more. ever seen how spiders deal with their food on animal planet? they wrap it with the silky stuff coming out from their asses into a pretty meatball, numb, dead or alive. it is none of the butterfly's business that it's causing a hurricane in the middle of the ocean. then a special blend of love fluid's ejaculated into the web-ball. you know, then everything starts to melt, slow or quick. the prey's world had a final hit. and when the time has come the big evil one will return and slurp the thingy dry. well, just like, you know what. obscenely annoying. how annoying could this be? you have no idea. just try to explain why i can't even keep a coherent conversation with myself anymore- and convince me that you're right. is that so? could it be that the madcap's growing a little bit too big for the blue cocoon? snakes grow up, break out of the old sweet suits. bam, cute little snakes become black mambas.

obscenely annoying without a tangible cause. and that's what my world has become.

do you think mona lisa gets bored? such a fake. how can she keep smiling 24/7 and you say it has always been genuine for all these years? or maybe when she's alone she weeps quietly for her son, her husband, her family and friends whom has died and gone throughout all these centuries. maybe she has been laughing at us all. look at that sad smile tainted with a lace of arrogance. 'you people are so a-stupido...' she laughs at warlords, presidents, cheaters, pop stars, common people, humanity. sorry mona lisa for calling you a fake. but i'll never understand why they call your smile attractive.

what else should i be to make me happy, to make things right, to stop the blue cocoon from taking pills that make you numb? stop running, look around and turn one hundred and eighty degrees. reach up into the sky and search for the floating boy.

i keep having dreams that i don't even bother to write about anymore.