Legendary

God help the child.

You be truthful. You be honest. You be obedient. You don't steal goods. You play it fair. You stick to your fucking principle. You plan and do things. You sort your things out. You decide today that what you're going to do 5 years later. You do what you want to be good at. You practice 18 hours a day. You don't want your father to fuck off when he doesn't give you the bucks. You don't smoke. You don't booze. You freaking pray to GOD and you ask for nothing. You don't want your friend to f eel shorter than you. You forgive the ones who sin against you. You be Jesus. What if any of this don't stop Karma?

Salt is peculiar.
And,not at all salty.

On an ordinary(0/365) day, when mommy, somehow, pictures the four walls of her kitchen to be no less than those ultra-thick, royally painted, superfluous walls of "The Grand Hotel", she does not miss adding salt to the food. Food is good. And, it has a taste(remember,not salty) which daddy expects it to have. However, on abnormal days, when mommy skips adding salt to the food. Then, what? Nothing. It's tasteless. You've got to add a tinge of it, yourself, and shoot those balls in. Now, what? How do those balls feel like? SALTY! Bloody salt. Bitch!

 

Newbie!

As you already know,I'm new in this joint. So please stand me even if I blog about how my bathroom(where I do everything except bathing) looks like, with the minutest details(subject to proper imagination).

Zero Adulteration

You can't just run naked about this earth. If you can,then I believe,you're the sexiest person on this planet(don't mind if I see a cunt in place of a dick or vice versa,then). For there are times when you have to use a fork when you actually want to gobble the food up with your hands. And,why a fork,at all? Does the fork take it to a heavenly place in your stomach? Oh,no. It's because you're in a place where you gotta behave like robots. Robots with codes. Codes,if not followed,would cause nothing. A few days time and sheer self- humiliation would end up designing another robot with no distinction(or distance) between it's waist and butt and and the copyright of each pair of their feet belonging to one man. Chuck Taylor. Yet, these robots are flexible enough. They socialise, they do music, they read magazines, they watch tv. All of them having their individual codes. Codes,if not followed,would not keep them alive. Talk about getting naked and cleaning themselves up,they'd never. Because it's so cold(or cool?) out there. I'm one such robot. And it feels nice enough save for a few moments of inner conflicts which gives rise to posts like these. Anyway,my robot is asleep now. And,I'm wide awake. I wish I could decode my encoded mates. Wish I was a robot now.