[violence...]

anybody heard about the time when i had to break an egg before i could cook the omelet? Well, an omelet(to get your hands on some great omelet recipes click here)is basically a dish consisting of beaten eggs cooked until set and folded over, often around a filling. When asked, why we even beat the egg after breaking the poor fella? Many just told me to shut up and go away.

However, this cannot, myopically, be viewed as an innocent, term of convention used to support blasé dispositions on why eggs should be broken before cooked. Why advocate violence? Children, worldwide, co-conspire to break eggs and beat them silly every time their stomach rumble.

Critics would never consort to justify the amount of violence inflicted upon ovalish, epidermitically hard eggs. Casting thoughts into the abysmal to salvage as much cerebrally riveting agendas that shroud this egg mystery; i seek to dismiss old affliations that broken and beaten eggs, have anything to do with calculative risk taking and making inevitable sacrifices.

[monologues]

A discourse made by one in solitude to one's self; monologue. I know that you're probably like saying "wad is this guy talking about?" right now... if you're normal then you'll most probably be repeating that sentence in ya head.. if you aren't, then you've probably verbalised it out loud... yes that thing... the one going on in ya head this very moment is alive... just before you make an unwarranted choice. just about when you are actually thinking of something or someone; contemplating even. just as you are about to read anything, clumsy sentences or mispelt words.

Uncovering intrinsic or indispensable properties that serve to characterize difficult texts... the words would literally feel like as if they were 'running' pass ya vocal cords without actually being heard by anyone else, besides you.

simple people who watch their simple life reel past, would not even chance upon such a discovery with acute prevalence, rather perturb by the preconceived notions of being called 'mad', once such man begin to hear voices in their heads.

(foreseeable intensive crapping)

finishing it off, i would suggest that we should live life as simply as it gets. and not bother about that voice in ya head; or wherever it might have had originated from.

[morning blues..]

Despotic lust? Crimson love? One might stare into the abyss wondering whether it could be said to be true.. Sad tale be told by the one who once chanced upon the winner,only left with bitter sorrow pieces of lost fragments; flotsams.let it be known that his intentiions were pure. Heart throbbing leg quivering; hopelessness. At times to the very least sporadic, at times to the very most ear shattering. Apologetic dispositions won't get him far but as his final line of defence, disadvantaged by options he only had so few to begin with.. It was over before he could even begin... All he could ever possibly fathom was to be given a second look. Slip of tongue common in this age of tacklessness... Reality hit him hard... Standing alone. Cold. He casted his aze upon the cold aluminium seats.. he desperately seeked what was amiss... amidst drowsy and caffeinated strangers.. exude a sighful retreat...being none the wiser.. the fool evident and clearly standing more like an idiot collapsed...