the crap before the calm.

When I do find a way out of this mess of crap…I’d like a nicer view…not just a bloody window…not a window with just a half broken picture of an incomplete imagination…no I want the whole scenery pasted inside my head…but not entirely…I want to be able to touch it…and say stuff to it that isn’t typed…I swear when that happens I’ll burn this keyboard…keyboards are to make music with…not poetry…make strange sounds…not for conveying nothing.

What a complete waste…complete and total waste is what I am…never been prouder actually…but still…in the grander scheme of things…I’m an ungrateful loser.

Too bad…I’m also very arrogant…and even if you reduce me to nothing and chop me into pieces and make me feel sicker than sick…I’ll stick with my story…and never say that I didn’t enjoy it. I will never say the one thing that haunts me all the way to sleep.

Last night…I heard my friend laugh…it was a sort of cruel laughter…that chills your crap…and I tried to turn and look...to see where old molly was hiding…naturally…I was alone…and I figured…yeah…auditory hallucinations…ok…try to turn your head…but you can’t look where the sound is coming from…strange.

Saw pana’s body in a chair with his back to me…trembling/shaking at the speed of…well something very…frequent…fast…it was…unnerving…but…

There’s never anything good once you figure there’s never anything good…

Screwed up half steps…whole steps…paranoid.