Oh, yes! Because much stupidity has again gathered somewhere here, whether I watch TV, listen to the radio, or just gaze around in my digital or real world, whether I stretch myself into friendly encounters, the urge to break away getting ever so stronger, but hang on, it's early still, no need to rush, my illness has yet to complete its cycle, so I once more retreat to my inner diagnosis, the prescription of my soul, old and well tested, endless, like the thoughts I'm sharing here, without a pause, only a short sudden breath, like a nasty shot, "ha", enriched with memories from the future I cannot see, perfumed with ethereal oils, lavender, bitter lemon and cinnamon, infused with fine honey, good for the joints, and the circulation of blood, for the immune system as well, so I can swallow all this stupidity without having to declare it to the tax authorities, tasting everything with a feeling of indescribable ecstasy, letting myself go, wishing to cry, wanting to dream, yearning of being somewhere else, of returning brightened, in dark night, away from the sight of socialites, so they won't notice and invite me to their parties.
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