I made my way through the tightly packed, sardine can that had culminated within a large central room, sliding, slipping, and grinding my way through any cracks which I could find. ¬†My common-man’s sign language served me well when I could not find one, as the deafening music allowed me no means of verbal communication.

Finally I stumbled out of the human ant hill, and passed through the open front door to freedom …and fresh air.

The smell of burning cigarettes, laced the thick air, of the late summer’s night. ¬†Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a few members of my ‘squad’,smoking over by the fence. ¬†I’d make my way over, soon enough; but, not just yet. ¬†For now, I thought. ¬†Fuck it. ¬†I decided to take a moment to decompress, and address the unaddressed lingering thoughts, which had been tugging on the back of my mind, for the last few drunken hours, at this point of the night.

I was drunk…

That much…

…was quite evident.

 It had been the objective from the start, obviously.  Mission accomplished.

In any case, there was, as on other such nights, a reason hiding just behind the bottle.

Then again, in all honesty I really didn’t need a reason to ‘turn-up’, like a savage Goth, on his march to pillage Rome anyway. ¬†Not then, not in times of many, MANY, similarly alcohol fueled instances prior, nor to this very day ladies & gentlemen, have I EVER needed any hint of a possible decent reason to get ‘turnt-up’.

…So there’s that.

Now then; let’s slide back to where we left off.

I was quite intoxicated.

I was high as fuck.

Then there was a blizzard…

…Which lasted throughout the night.

I had bitches on my mind.

… Maybe just ‘a’ hoe.

whatever.

Etc…Etc.

Okay maybe there

were some elements of

magic fungi within the mix…

…Etc.

Essentially, the most applicable descriptive term,

in regrads to myself at the time in question,

would have to be as follows…

…LIT as a CHRISTMAS^TREE.

So by the time my cigarette had turned to a stump of embers; the thoughts mentioned above, were the general scope of my thoughts at the time.

Weird.

^B.M. Strix

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Reflections; by B.M. Strix

Odd things life holds…

…odd indeed,…and wonderful in most cases.

Here life is real. Gritty and bleak to the unworthy of the, in many ways ‘divine’, fruits to reap amongst the bounty, of the lush garden’s hidden harvest.

Yet who amongst us all has never faltered in our ever changing self-desired path.  In fact, many, if not most living humans understand this dark side of things, quite undeniably.

Well, maybe, if not initially, simply outright; at least, on some deeper level.

I find that sensation, that beckoning feeling of failure, no matter how likely or unlikely the reality of the situation may actually be; a central pillar, in the criteria of ‘being a human being’.

Some, may, in all likeliness wholeheartedly disagree with my stance on this matter.

Good. You’re entitled to it.

I don’t give a fuck if you want to be a weak minded piss-stain anyway…

I don’t judge.

In fact weak minded piss-stain’s are people too…

In any case…

I had this idea, staring at a sleeplessly late-early summer night’s, waning nimbus face of the moon….

…and YES. The description was necessary, as it spurred the thought.

I think.

Regardless; life is existentially as random as it is beautiful at times…

…Then again God, the Cosmos, or whatever your outlook on the matter stands as,

has a point to it all hidden somewhere.

…I think.

-B.M. Strix