just unedited spewage, refuse ejection

I get depressed, paranoid, delusional even some days. I need to be free to spew the poisons building in me without causing no concern and am out of places to go and bemoan the seemingly meaningful senselessness, the scrolling nonsensical menace of my mind. It seems I’m ever verging ever near the edge. It isn’t true is it that I’m always almost insane as the million monologues of my brain concurrently raining would have me believe? I used to wish to be a song, a sound, but I am only noise. I am a clatter, hatter-mad and hare-marchly and there is no math in me nor science nor even an orderly myth. I am a systemless superstition, my own thoughts haunting my own ghost is what I am afraid of me so frightened away my shadow.

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Published in: on June 18, 2012 at 9:05 am  Leave a Comment  

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