Lose yourself - II

 The serious disentanglement, the behaviour of people slowly turning into the animal born to procreate, the denial of human nature within floral bouquets and intricate designs, the semi furnished man, the semi furnished woman, in a semi furnished apartment, trying to make sense of it all through joy, through an uncanny ability to feel elated over something extraordinarily trivial, the evaporation of passion after a few days or months or years, or worst of all that the passion persists, and you take everything known to you with it to write your own epitaph - "An Individual" - or something more sublime, just to light a dying spark to an insensate world, or that chosen moment of your past which laughs and doesn't care, the dispassionate existence, and still you scream, louder than ever, "Please let me get back."

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