You’ll Never Know it’s Splenda.

The euphoria, the rush, the most intimate intoxication that’s got you thinking in a range from literary terms to the mind state where you are stuttering the word pineapple can be oh so very deceiving. That feeling of condensation can be the very distraction to your downfall. Fallin’ in each and every way you can imagine. Fallin’ in and out of sorrow and up and down of glee. The sweetness, the sentiment of accomplishment blemishes what reality holds.

Or, “Y’just trippin’ out b.”

Regardless, and once again, you’re stuck in a conundrum within your-own-self. Anew, you’re a matter of your own misery; the burst-er of your own bubble, a bubble that could have been holding reality to begin with. It’s just a matter of coincidence and fear because you’d never think that something so luxurious, something you can indulge in would be the root of your pain.

You’ll never know, if your logic of relativity even relates. You’ll never know, if you’re witnessing yourself make a mistake. You’ll never know if you should panic if you choke on something sweet, or get over it and continue indulging on what you’ve long for in the first place.

So sweet, oh so very sweet. But, You’ll Never Know it’s Splenda:

Our senses are swindled by what truly is, as opposed to having the greater knowledge of what you’re accurately consuming. Realistically, you’re guzzling in artificial sugar, the sweetness that consequentially is not as satisfying and self-fulfilling as the real thing. It’s a science.

Only because,
You’ll never know. Do y’go with the flow? Or, is that what dead fish do?

xoxOMG
AG, signing off to you my commander and chief. <3