That time

It was connecting, it was being very rad. Fashion stays inside the outside, remarkable how the system is strong enough to in-tale all the people walking around like puppets drinking coffee and they love to stress too.

   My blather is neurotic all the time, she reminds me of the times we loved alcohol, I  lost the mind, most of the many times. I forgot how it was, not feeling poisoned by alcohol, and all the times I flushed down my phones, the deep drains where always damp. 

  I miss the times me and my wife used to dance. I lived by the streets in your small town, mostly waking up in stairways half naked and freezing cold. Well the dancing was fun, speeded freaks bouncing up and down like monkeys in cages. She used to close her eyes, and the way she moved the body like jelly fishes, being reborn but with legs and hearts. It stings you right in the eye and you go nuts. The light used to blend me now and then, the dancing floor wad sticky and my shoes got stuck to the fucking floor. It made me pissed off and really fed. Somebody, was always buying me drinks, my hand was never empty. I woke up, funky fresh, another drink and I was back on track. Fun times, then I realized that I was god. I loved having control, I need having control. Creating my life drunk on alcohol makes weird choices, which I don´t approve. But sometimes once in a while I like loosing it on that square of rock, and I roll.