Blue

Don’t fall, my love. 

Just drown, in the graceful blue, that is you. 

Drowning Divinity

One of the more amusing things to do in a bar, late at night, with only a few dreary souls left around, is to watch one or more of those wretched souls slowly decaying into drunkenness. Blabbering all of their hearts out, vomiting all the little loathsome self-pity details of a life so wrecked-full of disappointments…

And then, as you soak it all up, you can start thinking, how wonderful it must feel if you are a divine being, bounded by a weird destiny, to listen and record all these drunkards’ mumblings, for no other reason than to compel them to drown further into their bottles…and end their miserable existence in the embrace of the divine purgatory of their heady mead… 

Giant

It takes a giant, I suppose, to tolerate all the trivial, frivolous things that the dominant species on this rock could do 

At the very least, one can probably find some sort of relieve in the mental imagery of a giant foot, crushing down on all the antics that plague the horizon…

Drowning

Fingers slipping, breath thinning, water rushing painfully through the nostrils. What a damn wretched situation drowning is.

I don’t suppose cement block on the feet makes it any better, does it? I don’t think a few stab wounds makes it any less awful either.

Perhaps a good dose of nautical-themed, heavy-as-fuck Doom orchestration would ease the suffering? Say, something like the fine, relaxing tunes of Ahab, perhaps?

Drowning Anesthetic Dosage 1