?

Suddenly, fear looms large. The clockworks are ticking, inescapably, with terrible finality. My transition is all to banal. Few thoughts that merge into a conscience overpowering their fitful predecessors and being testimony to my composition have been bacchanal in discrimination. I look outside, in the environs, finding anomalies, anything, however lecherous or however poignant the venture may be. I don't leave anything. And to stumble upon a conscionably disgusting proposition, there is a repeated, incessant and vicious loop. My devilish quirks pique my memories. They pique until I bang my head in malaise, some puke that cant be let out, somefever that cant be sweat out. One half laughing at myself, upon the puerile convictions, other contemplating, why does it pique me? Suddenly then, a toothsome female comes and stands beside me. I look the other way. I look too busy, like I have the President to meet in 10 minutes and my chopper is not here, so I am grabbing a bite at this food court. (Figure out the obvious yourself) This female, is too bewitched with my lechery to be left bereft of my equally penetrating gaze. Then suddenly, she spills food just there, right there. exactly to wash my eyes, or rather the view all red and green.
I look the other way.

So does obscenity. What is obscenity? How do you define obscenity? I am not questioning anyone. These thoughts ring clear in my head. If I am wrong to look at her "wherever" what am I doing wrong? Does sit mean that I am not a man of morals? Does it mean that people like me shag in their bathrooms to satisfy their own promiscuous desires? Or is it wrong to have these desires?

What all do these people around me think? Does anyone around them matter to them? At all?
Or is their own cavalier pretensions supreme to everything else? Mine are though.
What substantiates all this? All this rigmarole of mental haze? Where the obvious is obfuscated by something the viewer is not able to discern. Perhaps the subject does not want to discern. Its so shameful. It is so poignantly disappointing. Something for which they would throw up there hands and say, I don't deserve to live. Something they are too scared to do. These 'they' include me too. Is this is a precipice for insanity? Some realms best left unsaid, are beneficial the lesser thought about, leave alone talk about.

Is blood the color of introspection?

Does everyone hide a prospective murderer? Or are firearms for inhumans? Or are wars fought for these same reasons, reasons of momentous people, who can alter histories, started satisfying their own contemptuous desires, in a dastardly method to set everything right, they kill everyone? They know no fraternity, to benignance. Nothing.

Or am I a fugitive, still caged to this mire so disruptive, that I may not emerge alive from it? I am alone here. No family with me. Neither their thoughts, not responsibilities. But that is another indictment of myself and this rebarbative and ulcerated creature inside.

I helped clean that toothsome beauty up.