Sheets malfunction, a view 2 die 4, Amsterdam and my wife's in Berlin.

The sheets on my bed do not match the paint on the wall. But it doesn't really matter, still I wish I hadn't boughten the lime green ikea sheets, or the one with pictures of food and chinese letters that forms graphic lady with out any face, just the body. Kinda turns me of, like the smell of rotten food or fake people. Well, I love that I just have to walk five steps and Iam out smoking, meditating, jumping running, dancing on the big garden and a swimming pool. It is perfect in all ways, but those fucking sheets. The room is blessed with 2 windows, sky, blue, white and greens are the colors witch I can see right now, some red too.

 On Tuesday I go to Amsterdam, I wish I could go with my wife to Berlin 2, but quality time with my family is funk 2,  Also the meetings, business and so on. Not 2 mention the deep relaxation and pot, mixed with clubbing and a shot, or 2. Paradise on Earth, the water in a newly flushed toilet. The sparkling water I stream in my soda, or the salty ocean breeze, pacific. My car, my perfume, my sweat. The Sugar in sweet. 

 

I spend

the time I give to me, spending my time on being as happy as possible. Then I take a walk to mona lisa, admire that fucking face and move on, to my higher levels. There Hwhores Cried and t-bagged each other. I was frightened, scared of seeing beautiful people breaking norms. L8er I felt a bit pathetic 4 feeling bad. So, I became that whore and T-bagged the shit out of all the whores(with out crying)!. Never will I let norms decide over the feelings I am feeling, and now that mona is sawn, my life continues. On and on and on. 

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.