I'm back and I'm alive

Failed to choke my lungs from hardcore smoking.
Been swimming in a vodka-filled, trapezoid-shaped pool.
My gastric linings are thinning,
Seemed ulcerated,
I can smell ammonia when I burp.
I burp a lot lately.
Gall bladder ducts must have been blocked,
But I'm still alive, they're just narrowed perhaps.
CSF drained through my huge nostrils.
Whiskey is cushioning my brain.
This is why I'm still alive.

Alice is no longer in Wonderland.
Alice shall be in chains very soon.
Tinman wouldn't be so happy.
Keep breathing Alice.

What is happening to me? I don't know what I'm writing. Who's Alice? One in the tale or the artist-rock star? Just like when I paint, I pull a trigger inside me and my hands do the talking, painting and writing.

I am back and I am alive. Too much have happened lately. I hurt the Juror with my blog. It was a rundown of the event, and it described my feelings during my clash with the Juror. There's no trace of me being ungrateful in that blog or post. Just like Ally McBeal, visualizing she's kicking her client's ass when she's furious. It's normal, it's a coping mechanism one has to do to soothe oneself. It took me two months before I speak again my mind. I won't die a poor weeping soul without anybody knowing what's in my hypothalamus. But I love you my Juror. And I am very sorry. I wouldn't be who I am now. You were my mentor and greatest supporter.