Everything is under controlled ⇒ Kirno Sohochari


Today’s down
Wake up to the sleep just now. Reddened orange is blushing over the sky. The furnished cave-hole is yet sleepy and my turbid face looking like the milk soaked bun in this primordial sunlight. Peaceful beauties of dawn grab the surrounding gradually. Everything is under controlled. The washroom is calling me for the day.

Dawn at 25000 BC
Wake up to the sleep just before the blushing orange furtively grab the whole cave. The dawn is beautiful for its nourishing rays. Sunlight gradually possessed the humid dark cave to warm it. Everything’s under controlled. The grassy savanna and the nearest swamp are calling me for the day.

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Today’s early morning
Reddened orange is no more belonging on the sky. Vibrant whites gliding over the breakfast table, even the morning deity glides and kisses to my face. She glides on the teapot and jiggles on the cellular phone.

Morning is well equipped and perfectly designed to the quick surfing of mobile-net for last headlines. Electronic newspaper and the social hub fairly organized by the last updates of sexual abuse, gang rape, mass murder in Syria, political unrest and jihad and lot of supplementary succulent tips from the editor.

Everything is under controlled. Time’s up for checking and knotting the tie finally before calling the taxi to take over the office burden.

Early Morning at 25000 BC
White sunshine is blowing all over the swamp and to the cave. The morning deity glides over the tall grasses of savanna and reflecting on the sharp edges of the stony spear. A thin line of parched blood is still glancing from the spear to remind me the happiest hunting moments of yesterday.

Last night dinner was wonderful for the hunted lard and it was artful to sketch the haunting moment on the cave wall. The morning breakfast is not at all a burden toady for yesterday’s hunting.

Everything is under controlled. Time’s up for whets the stony-knife and the spear-edge again before to take the burden of today’s hunting.

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Late Morning to noon
The decorated chamber and the meeting hall with well-furnished sitting chairs and the projector machine are fine-tuned today, -except the wavy bars, pie charts, and the grumble company bosses.

Profit margin and early turnover show the negative trend today. Despite the high profit of previous months, the target margin stands far behind to the projected target of the year. Declaration of new salary wage and the performance bonus is uncertain due to the backlog trend of profit margin.

The Sunshine is shining bright today. Air-conditioned bosses are worried to keep the luxury they used to have by seeing the slacking attitude in employee’s faces. Bosses are busy now. They’re busy with the autopsy of employee’s performance graph. They have to cool before takes the layoff decision of some employees. My name certainly marked by them in the list of trimming and notification.

Everything is under controlled. Today’s noon is sparkling and waving on the glassy commercial offices. The launch packets are tasty ever than before, except the bitter tension of target and layoff.

Late Morning to noon at 25000 BC
The vast grassy landscape and wild animals are blowing and howling under the sunny sky. My barefoot and sharp spear chasing the animal since from the morning but today is a fruitless bad day. The frolic sunshine and the gambol animals dodged me since the morning and make me funny by their hide-and-seek game.

I’m running, chasing, and repeatedly hiding me behind the tall grasses to speared the target and dodged over-and-again. The giant ape, flippant chimpanzees, swanky bonobos all are lying on the tree-trunk to enjoy today’s luxuriant sunshine.

They’re enjoying and I’m still running and chasing and sweating on this outsize grassy land. Today is a bad day for hunting. I’m sweated since from the morning to kill the target for launch.

Today’s noon is the bitter burden of hardship that not anybody of the clan yet kills the target. This day is bad by comparing yesterday.

Everything is under controlled. The watery swamp and the turtles, and the flying birds are happily glittering, swimming or flying on a sunny day, -unlike me. I’m hungry and thirsty and now getting tired of feeling me the fruitless hunter for today’s noon.

I’m hungry and thirsty and now getting tired of thinking me the fruitless hunter of today’s noon.

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Today’s afternoon to late afternoon
The sunshine bit dimming now to announce the silent footstep of nightfall. Dimming sunlight is waving to the glassy windows and slips over my face like the rainbow. The pouting wave of dust is shining over there. It’s an amazing afternoon indeed!

I’m tired to buttoning the keyboard for drafting, mailing, telephonic chatting and running between the desk and chambers of grumble bosses to carry on the militant strategies against the business rivals.

Today’s afternoon is hyperbolic due to the droning beat of profit fluctuation, target summation and the barb-wording of the bosses.

The hyperactive cricket match is now flooding over the television screen to create the tension of four runs in one ball hypo. The audience is over thrilled to watch the swinging battle of bowler and batsman and be thrilled to see the fluttering cheerleaders. Today is sexy by its late afternoon glamor and for the sex cheering cheerleaders.

Employees and the superlative bosses are now busy to shut the computer screen despite the loose motion of profit margin. I’m drowsy to receive the beckoning of late sun-noon that perhaps my days of the bakery will begin by tomorrow.

Everything is under controlled; -except the beckoning of uncertainty.

Afternoon to late afternoon at 25000 BC
The Sunshine is melting to the red giant by reckoning the footstep of nightfall. The sharp spear and stony knife are reckoning my fruitless chasing to the sly animals. The swamp is substantial by the chirping tune of birds and the fleeting trailing of fishes under the muddy water. I have to try my luck by spearing one of them.

The late noon sunbeam is now mocking me for my vain effort since from the morning. I’m hungry and thirsty and chewing the tuber of an unknown creeping tree to fill the thirst. The tannin tuber is not enough to gratify my hunger.

I’m a day-dreamer now; dreaming the plenty meat of a hunted and fire-roasted bison. The last beam of the melted sunshine is playing over my meat soaked face to congrats me for the victory.

Today is dream-day. The melted rays are ideal for the daydream of running, chasing, dancing, knifing and at the rest eating the meat and fatty muscles of the giant animal. Today is dream-day of firing, eating, chatting and finally painting on the cave wall before engaging the female partner in wild orgasmic copulation.

Everything is under controlled; -except the bad daydream that I am not hungry.

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Today’s evening
Today’s evening is graceful by the full moon night. The red giant already sinks down in the blue-eyed angelic clouds, and the last flaming rays of the giant fruit just shifted and vanished from my sight to left some lament for the futile beauties.

The sky is gibberish without the blazing giant. Redden orange has its drastic color to hypnotize the day. Oh! I forget, the day is over and night begins, and the vivid moon tries to fill the giant hole to its sleek and silky cocoon, -likely me. I’m trying to weave my giant hole by the fictive cocoon.

Everything is under controlled; -unlike my tireless effort of weaving the hole by a hopeless dream.

Evening at 25000 BC
Today’s evening bit scurry for the sudden termination of sun deity. His reddened face is no more seeing in the sky. The mysterious moon deity is coming over from the bluish clouds. She looks ravishing in the dark. The grassy savanna and the swamp are flickering by the graceful Moonbeam but the cave is dark yet. I return to the cave with speared catfish and goose.

Moonbeam glides in front of the cave and the shifted rays are floating, waving and flying around the shadow-line of the cave. My tribe is busy to roasting the goose and the catfishes on fire.

Everything is under controlled. The noisy smoke is enough to sink down me on night-dream.

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Today’s night
Office hour is over; I’m walking on the night street by left far behind the weight of bars and pie charts, and the screwed tension for next month wages or lay off.

Walking on the street with moon deity is relaxant to compare the burdens of drafting, emailing, chatting and chasing the tricky bars and pie charts to cash and certainly cheat somebody.

The day is over; I’m walking to the home by left behind the crowd and vehicles and the sweet traffic sergeant. I left them on bypass under the menstruated billboard. The giant screen is moon-lightened to saying “goodbye” to the anxiety of seeing blood suddenly in your undergarment by wake up to the sleep at one fine morning.

A day is over and I’m calling the taxi to reach my home. Silky moon moving slowly in the sky and the blushing Moonbeam is dripping on my lips. My cloudy lip tries to suck it and chew it like the sex-lunatic.

The day is over and everything is under controlled. I’m on the way of sweet home to left behind the bad today. Time’s up for the dining.

Night at 25000 BC
I was in a daydream at noon and at this moment of dining, my eyes getting sleepy to think the fruitless effort of chasing and spearing the lard. The thrilling moment of life is nothing but a circle of endless running, chasing, hunting and roasting, and eating the fatty meat to come out for next day’s spearing.

Today’s night is moonlight night. It should be celebrated by the immense lard of giant bison, but the day is bad for a lavish dine. I don’t know why. Perhaps the day is unlucky for me. The red giant was maybe in bad temper and displeased to the clan for an unknown reason.

A day is over, but the dinner is not enough to satisfy the hardship of cave painting and copulation under the divergent moon deity. She is now blushing over the swamp by left the cave-yard.

The day is over and we’re eating the smoky goose and catfishes by sitting behind the shadowed cave-wall. I’m now eating and chatting and bit laughing to think the bad hunting noon. We are now eating and chatting under the shadows of fire-and-moon.

Everything is under controlled and we’re eating, gossiping, and singing behind the ghostly shadows of cave painting. Time’s up for sleeping and the dreamy hunting for next today.

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Today’s late night and maybe it is endless
Dinner is over and it is over by the typical showering, eating and fabricated chatting to the stereotyped darling and kids. Moon deity is still moving, floating and bit fluctuating on the starry sky. She looks typically menstruated now, -just as my life; nothing left here that I can say “new”.

Dinner is over by the stereotyped stroking of channel tuning, net surfing by sipping the coffee with an empty head. The night is going deeper to the sleep. The lane and avenues are slowing down to the sleep. This is the moment to stands on the balcony and puffs the nicotine for life sake.

Your typical moments are over when you stand on the balcony to see the thousand miles deeper sky on the trillion miles deeper horizon. That’s the moment to enjoy the moonshine with a thoughtless mind.

Yeah! That’s the moment to forget everything and eliminates from the burdens of thought. I’m standing on the balcony to forget everything, except the moonshine and puffing nicotine.

The typical moment is over when you stand on the moon-lightened balcony with a thoughtless mind. Being thoughtless is non-stereotypical and I’m that now; … trying to forget the ramshackle roads, filthy drainage, head-aching traffic jam and to the parallel, -I’m trying to forget the bitter faces of high-priced goods in the market.

That’s the time to forget that you have a stomach for eating and have some organs to eat and shit and hopefully cheat somebody.

Everything is under controlled, -except the feeling that my brain is not working at the moment. I’m standing on the balcony to rub the gleams of menstruated moon deity for sake of the remote past I left over in the cave.

Everything is under controlled and I extend my foot to running back to the cave before going to the sleep.

Everything is under controlled and I’m in hurry now, because I have to reach the cave before the giant orange calling me to wake up for the next today.

Late night at 25000 BC and maybe it is endless
Everything is under controlled. The little goose is tasty indeed, but not competent to the taste of deer and bison and even the giant snake-meat.

However, it’s far little better to eat something rather be hunger at dining. The goose meat and the catfishes are helping me to enjoy the gleams of moon deity, and I’m falling to the daydream again. My sleepy eyes are showing something playful for me.

I’m on dream again and seeing the fragments of chasing and hunting and eating the giant lard under the moon floating moonshine. I’m on dream and bit hurried to sketch the hunting moment on the cave wall. It’s my victory over the giant animals in the hostile savanna and swamped jungle.

The dream is beautiful when your stomach is full and it has filled by the massive lard and meat. The dreamy dream is disturbing when the stomach not gets enough to fill the hole, but it’s better by comparing to the empty stomach. The dream is fussy when you’re empty. An empty stomach is the outcome of an empty head by the bad dream of terror and death.

The night is moon-shiny. I’m again on the dream in the shadowed darkness of the cave. Fragments of running, chasing, knifing are dropping on my eyes. The moment of spearing, firing, eating and falling on deep orgasm strikes me to the dream. The moon deity knows why I feel something incredible in my swelling organ.

Everything is under controlled, -except the exotic dream and the swelling organ. I wake up to the dream and pick the hand of the woman I prefer to like. The moonshine is little shady now. We move to the shady corner to be wild before wake up for the next hunting “today”.

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