I take that back...I'm not sad, or emo at all. In fact, I'm so amazingly happy that I feel as though I'm walking through a bed of the most luscious roses with the most gorgeous, big breasted, brunette porn star I can possibly fathom. When I close my eyes I see the skies as blue as topaz and the nights like black parchment folded open before me like an ancient tantric manuscript. The stars spread across the velvet parchment like holy words written in diamond by the hand of Thoth. The scent of jasmine and the sweetest vermillion plastered Spanish saffron mix in the air as if dancing to some unattainable, incoherent symphony of the universe before reaching my nostrils and passionately triggering an emotional waterfall. The opiate of the trees surge through my veins like the sounds of the birds surge through my ears. The crystalline waves of erotic ecstasies warm my body in flashes like lightning. A roller coaster of love and happiness fills my mind like the decarboxylated tetrahydracannabinol of the finest indica fills my cannabinoid receptors. I am no longer sad. I am no longer emo. In fact, I'm delusional. Delusions of happiness are better than realities of sadness. Thank you.
-Non Applicable
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