what i feel:
ever feel just Dark. you just want to scribble on papers and scratch the walls and run into the dark street, run towards the headlights coming at you.
you wish you could just fuckin play chaotically like thelonius or someone on the keys. and your fingers feel it and you all of a sudden know what they were doing. not talking not singing but screaming. growling at the daftness of stupid ridiculous lala happiness marketed on banners on shiny phone booths with no phones actually in them. tearing their faces off, them people who are the culprits and are corrupting. you realize the truth is really a baldfaced fuckin lie and the lie is the fuckin truth and why not inject that shit, drink that shit, lie in your vomit and wait for the headlights to run over your useless skull that's thought so much of what's right and good and proper and what does this person need. fuck that. why not just lie under the headlights not giving a shit whether you'd still look tiny as your tiny body is when the cars smash your ribs and stomach and freshly built muscley sinewy mini female biceps and rip parts of your hair off your skull. man that's a really tiny woman, they'd say, who decided to just get run over. but i'm not going to do it, i just feel like it, i just feel like injecting shit in my veins like i saw someone do once, just to feel like who gives a shite. but i'm not going to do any of it, nooo, i'm just going to do nothing and worry as always but fuck if you know what's going on in my mind. this is a gift don't you know.