A Boozed-writing On Toxicophagous Moments


A party? No! in effect, a show, an orgy of easy but tormented youngsters who’ve learned to live through illusory spree: Girls showing their ample cleavages and ducky asses thru close-fitting night dress, Boys with cold gazes and paralyzed body language offer their mannish immobile postures desperately , Hosts with wonderful hot amiability and excessive cold look; Everything is an epitome of a modern feast – no smile, no waltz , no silence, no dance, no seduction: all the things are gathered here to provide a hearty shortcut to jouissance. What else do you desire mate? You drink and you leave your ego to the matchless imaginative dissocialized sphere of … say it a gathering of nothingness, a pure dear invalidness. No burden while you surpass the tracked damned realm of reality. Harsh hailstone of the humble happiness; Rigorous right of righteous redemption … a sulky serious girl is staring angrily at some couples there making out in their rainbow of gladness; she’s craving for a shoulder as she touches her arms… a stoned boy is staring at the white wall, hallucinating a rosebud that is bicycling on another rainbow… a masquerade at the far side of the salon which is mimicking the void rhyme of our discussion. What a discuss!!! E is debating on the aesthetical vantage of architecture over music, J – as the true faithful fellow of our elites! – is challenging her reasoning with shallow references to threadbare metaphysics of Schopenhauer… what a joyful waste! What a vast desert of humanistic oblivion! An empyreal moon is rising over my circling glass; An umber sun behind Whiskey! A black sun, a true smile over all…

Don’t brush your teeth after that…