Taboo

As I spend time alone, the carnival beckons like never before, that senseless escape to a temporary Wonderland, where no one sleeps in that mind-numbing music. It dulls the mind to a mechanized drone, that self-induced trance which forbades any other action other than the repeated motions of crazed intoxication. In short, it's a taboo.

The retaliations against public sensibilities, the drowning of which is the opiate of my innermost protestations. I am that lone Mustang in the wildeness of improbabilities, yearning to test my limits like never before, to indulge in the untried vices of worldly temptations; sex, cigarettes, liquor, fights, you name it. Especially the fights, that leaves one bloodied and emancipated. Life is never more inglorious, a true bastard.

I detest the leashes of social correctness. Instead, as Gaga professes, let's have some fun, this beat is sick.