What happens some nights.
I’m going to regret writing all of this, a lot of it doesn’t even make sense.
It’s all very bad for me and I can’t control it. I can’t comprehend, it was very random, and the days go by slowly and I’m lonesome and it hits me and I’m doing it again. I don’t think most people realize, or do they? I’m an excellent hider, or am I? Probably not at all. I’m obsessed and completely miserable over being appealing that my thoughts are coming out of my mouth and I’m speaking to myself, telling myself that I do not look the way I should. And it’s scary, terrifying, and it all goes in at once, a constant flow, and it’s great, and it’s fun, and I’m invincible.
Flavors and textures and temperatures and amounts and sweetness and saltiness.
I’ve found the perfect method.
It takes ages to come back out and my face is a mess and I lie down. Every night, or every afternoon, it happens at the very least, once. No one knows. I think it’s boredom, I’m so bored, everybody is boring, everything I see is boring, nothing is exciting. Everyone is too nice, everyone says the same thing, I’m too nice, I’m boring, I start to say the same things. Do I have the ability to make life better for myself? I think so.
I sound like I’m crazy, but really I just think too much. There’s a huge difference. Your thoughts become unorganized, therefore jumbled.
The special people that I’ve met; interesting friends, friends that share my interests, friends with weird quirks, weird cab drivers, cab drivers that tell stories, anybody with a meaningful story, sad people, irrevocably happy people, lost people, people that make me feel other worldly, people that can take me out of my comfort zone to explore things I’ve always wanted to, people that do not let me hold back, what would I ever do without you?
