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Aspirations of Apathy


Nothing is real.
 
Nothing to feel.
 
I have been drunk with some crazies.
Far afield of what is acceptable,
At least I think so, how the hell should I know.
At the end of the night – Miasma.
 
My built Ford tough tolerance clear.
As the crazies do what they do.
One sings the same song in different variations.
The others laughed at heart break.
 
Traces of paradise possibly veil me.
I can certainly feel the singing.
Momentary thoughts open up in liquid portals.
My lunatic laugh stays in silence.
 
Nothing to feel
 
Nothing is real.
Written by Cipher_O (WarlordoftheWrittenWord)
Published
Author's Note
I heard a song and it reminded me of something... I just remember studying the emotions of others when they were in a most inebriated and vulnerable state, never judging them. I was always very clear headed in this moments.  I had a very high tolerance for substances.  I no longer drink or have the desire to drink.  

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rKFx0MMqb48
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