Feeling unsure, angry, insignificant. Not looking for affirmation because opinions are all that exist. There is no such thing as neurotypical; we’ve all got something.
Hating life, myself, and the universe.
Romance is a way to cover up that ‘love’ is a four-letter word.
Romance is a chemical reaction in the brain intended to further the species.
Romance is a dirty trick, played by a selfish brain.
Nostalgia is a feeling I try like hell to find and which slips away all too easily.
I’m starting to think it is the only one that makes me feel alive.
Maybe besides pretending to be someone else.
Dreamlike. Wasn’t going to write about this but last night (late night), browsing the Internet, looking at websites, sharing some, all different, strong, strange emotions. This is a montage to me; feeling blender, writing too fast. I’m tired.
I remember we would all line up outside, the taste of plastic and too much water, and there’s always that one girl who throws up every night for attention. Funny, the Army, that way — that getting sick could be a positive. So twisted. I will never drink from another canteen.
I think, once you’ve written about a word, a NEW word should come up immediately. That way, I wouldn’t be so damn bored at work.
But don’t touch
Stinging eyes and
Warming face and
Stealing oxygen from lungs
Relentless lick of flames
Am the torch