Glimpses of the Past

We are exiles of our own choosing. We chose to submit to the wiles of nature, to surrender to the whims of the elements. We are truly the sons of the earth now.

Outback

Outback on the cold wintry fields of yore
Sitting in the cramped confines I saw
The Dravidian crossed with the Asiatic
In that curious mixture of everything

Blank

The blank faces on the streets bely the tragic monotony of the everyday struggles, modern or otherwise. Life never ceases to show in the ordinary.

Tyler

If you ask me what animal do I resemble the most, it's the Tasmanian Devil. Demure at a distance, but when someone approaches, it responds with a snarl and bites.

Inside every one of us, there is a Tyler Durden waiting to break free. I am no saint. If truth be told, I am looking and thinking what is it like to fuck the person senseless. To break free of the strictures of society. This is Tyler Durden speaking.

Hurdles

If the hurdle comes, jump over it. If the problem comes, solve it. If the enemy comes, fight it. When push comes to shove, the obstacle must be dealt with. This is life.

When the water comes, embrace it.

Do not have the illusion over emotional attachments then. Everything is transient. You don't beat yourself up over it, because it doesn't work that way.

Hubris

This is the only place where I am free to let my thoughts roam in wanton verbose, where I would not be derided for my unbridled sense of linguistics and semantics. This is my abode, where I raise my shields of self-imposed hermitage. Let not the plebeians whine and rage at their linguistic incompetence. I am elite. This is my hubris.

Rage

Repeated attempts at expiating my lustful energies seem to be futile, and it will be soon before the claws of passion strike at my essence. Passions that are misdirected and unfulfilled. You may think I am past my prime, yet my blood still rages down there.