Blurred

Is it stablon time? Cold, dark and lonely days. The whole world is cramping around you, the vise gets stronger, the will to fight almost redundant. People lie when they say 'I want you to be happy'. Its just a better way of saying 'dude mind you own stuff and stop bothering me'. In fact the well meaning ones would probably say 'I will make you happy'. Somebody please stop these cricket ts.Too many punctuations added with quotes and a strong urge to say 'Fuck you world', well I'm sure its stablon time.
Its scary for people who want to see intent opposed to action. Its the die hard romantic inside, too scared to live in real world. Facts when placed right can question God. Then how moronic is it to depend on people for happiness or barely lack of sadness. I'm bloody sure its stablon time. Has any one ever noticed? The blaring silence in an empty home (not house). Its like thousand cricket ts screaming together nonstop as a background chorus. Try shutting your ears with your palms and the decibels increase. Time to see the doctor. He says 'people have made their choices, time to wake up and see'. Now who can explain to him, cant just self amputate. Hurt, unhappiness etc are signs of a working mind. It sees the circumstances as not conducive, hence the feel. Then why is this moron prescribing stablon. Is it to numb me and my senses, debilitating my rationale and saving me from gloom? If true then he is really not helping my brain do its normal function. Self inflicted wounds hurt more. The thought of your stupidity as a party adds to the misery. It is stablon time.
To say the path is clear is an understatement. Forging new tie ups at the altar of older ones is the only hope of salvation, but how to explain this to the tiny ones. Their world revolves around us. Somebody please stop these cricket ts. The cacophony of the the world outside with blaring sounds seems more peaceful. How long and how far can I chase? Umpteen cups of coffee, with eyes watching others make merry is not really sights of delight! Better get my little ones, their shrieks and joyous banter will heal my soul. Beyond a certain limit right or wrong ceases to be of consequence, what remains is stark naked reality. Where the fuck is Stablon?