They say ‘common sense is not so common’, but in the black days it feels more like ‘common sense is so rare, it’s a clinical diagnosis’. In the good days it doesn’t matter because you’re Jonathan Livingston Seagull.
In the end of the April, 2018.
short
* * *
Way too much emotions, way too much words. Scrabbling, bubbling around, allowing neither order nor sense. Blarght. Elephants. Parrots. Cucumbers. Cumbersome. Let’s play the game. Equinox. Xylophones. Sugar. Rumpstelskin. Niagara. Adored. Daphodil. Lunar. To play this game it is nice to know a lot of words with different final letters. Some languages totally suck for this. But we must get somewhere with it. Without words there are no thoughts. Without thoughts there are no… No nothing.
In the middle of the March, 2018.
* * *
– Survive or die trying.
– How tautological…
– However, it is always good to acknowledge the possibilities.
2013.gada oktobŗa sākumā.
* * *
– He would never do such a thing to anybody!
– …
– Well, not to me.
– …
– Must have had some really good reason, end of the world or something…
– …
– … I’m an idiot. Sad idiot.
2013.gada oktobŗa sākumā.