i need to get away from the tranquils of fabricated melancholy. up to what point does a crown royal on the rocks decide my mood for the better? even a room overflowing with artificial breasts and milky soft skin from vegas strippers can breed complacency of the senses. the dilution of your pain by designer drugs, the artificial social ills that compound themselves into your burdens, the eventual blindness brought by routine. cities are sometimes prefabricated, and to enjoy solely for what you can see and touch is as dangerous as feeding alka seltzer to the pidgeons.

i adore the isolation of travel, the ability of journeys to put you back where you belong by taking you out of it to begin with. i like getting out of routine. basking in the grandeur of the random. chance makes the situation ironically prefabricated to a degree of omnipotence.

unfortunately, these thought farts lead you to a dead end. thanks for wasting your time at lovine.com :)

5 Responses to “”

  1. mikkokoko

    What do you mean by “chance makes the situation ironically prefabricated to a degree of omnipotence”?

  2. Paolo Bugayong

    I honestly enjoy reading your blog because it just shows how deep a person can be despite his comical ways from the outside. Nice thoughts, though it makes no sense what-so-ever, nevertheless feeds my brain with new vocabulary.

  3. lovine

    “chance makes the situation ironically prefabricated to a degree of omnipotence”

    when you leave everything to the mysteries of chance, when you let things fall into place naturally without influence, eventually all that happens is the fulfillment of an omnipotent power’s default. if you look closely at the randomness of chance, you’ll find that it’s ironically been determined, it has already been known…


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