At the end of the day, I need to draw a finish line to my ever wandering thoughts. I need to because that is how a day is supposed to end so that I start a new day to my next.
Be it the chocolate marshmallows or slimy cookies, I give in to the thoughts that haunt me for I have been their favorite prey.
The rapid flow of disintegrated foils of mind mildness that ascents my journey to the valley of unknown is dilapidated.
I submerge in the pool of melancholy of seismic thought waves inside for diving and drowning makes no difference to me.
The so far best vested strain naps begin with the cushions that hit back like stones that hallucate to be the crushers.
Fisted polishes of tainted trims traverses through me to the Grimms, a hole of the multiversed frequency of transdimensional energy.
Then there is let out for that and I push myself to the heated magma of submitted blanket.