• What I did was only a chance for recognition. The planes held me and I lost the rythym of the true matter of the feeling. I could be blankity blank blank and be like corrugated cardboard to take the shape. FUCK THAT. Blow out, become fierce with a friendly touch. Downside up the slide. A reverse so that we can immerse. The strings got to me but the drums always bashed me the most. Now for an easier more understandable self: I began to record my words again, in story form. The nights without sleep possess me to do such things. The schooling has been coming to my front door with expectations diminished because those teaching do not teach the subjects regular. I might regret this post later for it's devilishness but all is love and that makes all.

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