I'd rather be drunk.
returning home on a friday night sober, that's a new one.
I know that alcohol is just a legalized form brainwashing,
no, a subtle tool of submission (and cash cow for the
Ontario government) supplied by the elites, but I don't
like to think of it in those terms and drunkedness is my
prefered state of living. The inebriated state renders my
capitalist surrounding more vulnerable, just as heinous,
but a bit more bearable, because, like Jamie's cellular-
mishap, it is all just ridiculously hilarious. All this,
not including my inhibitions that get flushed into the
sewer system after a few pints. Through the haze of
alcohol, I achieve the greatest degree of clarity,
simplicity, harmony. It is illusionary, yes, but oh how I
love these illusions. Returning to my sober state only
fuels the want to achieve such virtuous concepts in the
natural, unsubstance-assisted state. Running through the
fields of tall, soft grain, the suns rays beaming on your
face, not a billboard or high-rise building in sight. This
could be you, This could be us. Making love in the fields
of grain. Alas. Not tonight.