The first thing I wrote other than direct response copy in late December 2014 in a haze of narcotics. I don't remember writing it.
We can likely agree that none of us are saints,
Our brainwaves constantly craving complaints,
Continually demanding debilitating debates,
The mind’s visions become analysed whilst unduly amplified,
Before becoming magnified and overwhelmingly intensified,
It happens in seconds and the journey repeats without pause,
Let’s have it: your ideas, your life’s dreams, and all your flaws,
At its worst; It’s sneaky, slimy, and slanderous,
At its best? It’s extraordinary, exciting, and glamorous,
I wouldn’t mind all of this, if this activity were not so frequently ill timed,
But then, who am I to argue with how my beautiful mind is designed?