So, the Never Have I Ever game is on, and people are enjoying it, it seems. But filtering out the best lie amongst millions and the most suited truth among billions is way heavy for me. Still, the show thing, yeah, it must go on.
The first thing that puts me in awe when writing about this is understanding how shit-head I am. There is nothing to brag about or be cunny with. So, I decided to make up stories and see how far it goes.
As you are the judge, I know there won’t be any punishment even if I confess my most intimate guilt or swear in the name of god and then lie. So, shall we begin?
Never Enjoyed Any Narco
Not kidding; c’mon what could be so fascinating about it?
You take it, get lost in the third state of mind, and speak wisdom until the dopamine gets neutralised by your inner instinct to come back to sanity. That’s it— what’s so special about it.
I am not a specialist, not even close— I don’t know what it takes to be a specialist either, but I can say. I have seen people moaning in pleasure, turning into half-ass zombies for the time being, and then they are lost— lost in despair, frustration engulfs the soul inch by inch until it breaks apart in pieces calling for help, a desperate cry to erase the pain residing inside.
To me, it’s the moment you enjoy, not the substance. And I guarantee no substance ever tasted yippee.
Always Hated My Home
Home is where the heart is— and I always have my heart somewhere else but home. I don’t know why but a part of me yearns for serenity, and wants to delve into the ocean of tranquility where silence creates fear even among the most silent of all. Nah, that’s overrated. A bit of noise is okay, but not too much.
So, home— every time I am called back home, or I wait for the bus to come, I feel like I am going to an exile; away from my sense of chaotic self, where I am over pampered for nothing. And it’s annoying. But there are times when the call for home delights my mind; the iris gets bigger in excitement— perhaps because I hate being at home, and it has created a rough texture inside my mind that sparks with occasional enthusiasm.
Another?
I had this plan to disclose how long I last, but then I remembered I don’t keep count. So, meh!