oblivionhaze

I sometimes put Tabasco sauce on my food. Not because I like Tabasco, mind you. Frankly, I despise the stuff. No, I do it because it makes everything delightfully chaotic for a while. The overwhelming taste on my tongue, the intense need of a drink to obliterate it, the moment of utter sadness at the fact that my food has become entirely inedible. All is wrong, all is lost, and oh, where is my salvation in the form of a water glass? Then it's over. Everything lines up once more; I'll live to eat another unsullied meal on another day. I jump into fountains, too. Clothes on and everything. Oh, and I sometimes burst into song in the elevator or

A Little boy, a son of war, anger, pain, and fear walks through a place where the toughest men cry and death roams freely. "I have a little secret, I have a little secret. I will hide it. No one can find it. It´s my little secret", sings the kid. His knees meet the dust, his eyes meet what is laying on his arms, his senses meet pleasure. Shots pass over his head, and explosions make the earth shiver. Digs with his own bloody hands just like a dog will to bury his bone. Hides his treasure with all the others, and then runs off, looking for more. The sniper, observing everything through his scope, wanders about the reason for