“His palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy
There’s stain on his sweater already, mom’s spaghetti
He’s nervous, but on the surface he looks calm
and ready to drop bombs,
But he keeps on forgetting what he bore down,
The whole crowd goes so loud”
That explains the lot what went down last night. A beautiful nightmare if I may say –heavy breathing, sweaty palms, lying uneven gasping for the last hint of air in the room adorns the time. A soul needs to wonder in the wake of an awakening – be it spiritual or mental.
A ride to hell seems like the best option available in that moment. Painful but pleasurable I may sum up this sensation. With each passing second my knees are wearing out, moans are getting loud as if someone is sucking the soul outta me. But somehow I won’t introduce this feeling as a Devil’s work nor do I sense any Dementor in the house.
The gate to the hell is in sight. I resisted at first, still want to explore what it looks like from inside. (WANDERLUST) My body bore a heavy weight, shivering went down from the spine to legs, “just a step away” I said to myself. As soon as I opened the door, it splashed and divulges the watery wrath on the micro-bacteria that resides on the cotton.
Open my eyes and look at the great mess that I’ve nonchalantly created. This is what happens when your girlfriend left you for some other guy. Erections are hard to come by and so does future prospects. Your forearm may have loosened up but your will to bone Maria Sharapova is still there.