when everything else fails

Some Times We Feel For. . .

Sometimes we feel for the past. Because it is something we have experienced in our lives, something we like to reflect even it’s sad or happy. “Nostalgia is purely nauseous” That is a quote from one of my friends, he felt like that just because he is unable to pronounce or spell that word. Well if anything is to be pronounced and it includes the use of any other organ than mouth, I also tend to agree with him. Now forgetting my sweet friend of the past for a moment (thinking of him is quite a nostalgia) let me get in to the purpose of me writing this piece of crap.
True that I got some time to kill and I’m now using that time to write another piece of brain poison to make you readers go crazy slowly and achieve the maximum pleasure of dementia induce coma. Now to tell you a secret, “Poems are like Prions” That quote is not from my above mentioned friend but yours truly. Now if you are wondering what the hell is a prion, you can do some research online, some brilliant minds invented the internet before they went crazy, might be due to a prion induced disease. I’ve got no time to explain how a prion works and for matter can’t explain what it is in first case. Use the internet. And now if you are wondering what the hell is a poem, I assure you don’t need to continue reading because my goal of poisoning your brain had been achieved by someone else. So prepare your bed for coma.

Before the lunatic dementia of crazy winters strike me, let me finish this. Oh to finish, actually I didn’t even start. Whew, for a start let me tell you the purpose of writing this brain poison. I found some old poems written by me. Yay. All those above talk about prions were with purpose. Yes I was not going out of topic just at the very start of it. No I was not a raving lunatic, not yet because I have not finished my article. I had it all in my mind. Now please follow me.

Shine on my crazy moon
It’s once in a blue moon
I hid some cheese on a crater
Just for the rabbit to find

Diamonds hey diamonds
Love me for my hardest things
Diamonds are the purest we know
When it shines like crazy moon

Shine on and rain on
They had rain on the moon
Hey rabbits got my cheese
I’m now in a honey moon

That is something I’ve written when I was . . . Well I don’t know when. Anyway it proves many facts people doesn’t like to admit. One for example is the existence of rabbits on moon, and another is that there are several moons, at least two, bluemoon and honeymoon. See this is why I said poems are like prions. Sometimes the facts we can’t accept in our normal life will become acceptable when we are in a persistent vegetative state induced by dementia.

Direct me back to the crazy highway
I had all my toy cars racing there
I can’t lose them to the police
I don’t want to pay the slip
I can’t loose my money
Because my toy cars went racing

Maybe I was thinking about a lame video game I played sometime ago. But still it proves that even toy cars are game for our highways. Isn’t it right. Well I’ve been right on many counts by now. Yeah you are now a raving lunatic, just because you try to disagree with me. Or is it me who is the lunatic now. Poor me.


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