All the evils of our lives took a small bite from our brain then washing it down with the madness of booze. Insane in a black stone room with wire covered windows with the sound of blue flashes of thunder. Stains of dried blood and flesh stuck to the wall from the past dead and insane. Beating our heads on the stone blocks pleading for the end of our misery being denied the joy of freedom that only our dead bodies are allowed to leave. What night was your worst fear? Is it this one? In this room? Our screams are the final moments before our death at sunrise. Happiness is long gone and we are nowhere to be found on earth. Enjoy the madness of the slow pounding of our conscience getting it’s revenge in a room made of stone a place for our madness to reside. Is there joy in booze when all we get for our efforts is insanity in a stone room. Why do we bother? In a room we won’t remember who we are. The living will not want to. We already are society rejects then we do it to ourselves. Hard to find a person to care about us. To become that person by living a moral life. Learning to become a moralist is where we create better people for ourselves and others. The times when we need people the most they are nowhere to be found or not interested anymore. Be a moralist. Depend on yourself. Don’t bother people about your problems take care of it on your own. Be a survivor not a crash and burn. Stay away from the drugs and booze and you won’t need to worry about living in the stone room. A true moralist would never choose the addictions life but a sober one. The life of booze promised you insanity in a stone room.
This is now your home sweet home.
see ya’ next time
