It was another sat night. I drank and danced and drank and danced and puked when I got home. Woke up at 9 this morning in a comfortable daze. My brain wasnt working, I couldnt think. The pulses left were used to feel the love of a deary fren who has given in to my unreasonable demand.
I love waking up to sundays. Especially the drizzily ones. I would smoke and look out of the window, thinking of nothing. Simply high on the fresh breeze with some sprinkles of dews on my face. After two bottles of water, i got myself back and thought of the lil wide-eyed puppy. She was licking her owner in such lovely fashion and i was smiling. I could almost see her cross the line to land of contentment where she would lay under blanket bliss. I can finally read now.
I think painting is therapeutic. More so when its with the silhoette of someone you love against rainbow flowers.
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