shared.

double-anal.

the stopping and thinking, the space between blinking, the time we take leisure and measure and rhyming and pleasure. the more i stop to think, the less i think i can stop. the act of stopping. the hesitation of going. bearing a fine line between green and red, go and shouldn't. bright green sunglasses, bright green english classes.

i bet misspelling english is just too fuckin' stupid.

i'm not afraid to keep going - being alone is terrifying and i won't let that stop me. i can't. the fact that it scares me is the same principal i base on the fact that i cannot stop. i have to learn. i have to fear. i have to grow. the show must go.

when i can finally write down what i think to the tune of only myself as the audience then i know i will be saying what i mean. this transparency can do nobody any justice. this menagerie is of absolutely no benefit to anyone. perpetuating the psychological predisposition that has been my greatest weakness since my moment of independent cognition - will do me no good.

i need to shave. just a little.. i do not like shirts with tight collars. it feels too confining. i do not like shirts with loose-neck anymore. i feel too exposed. i'm changing. a lot. and its good. and its bad. and its painful. and its dangerous. and its new. and its exciting. and its terrifying. and its liberating. and its life altering. and i will come out the other end with both legs and arms and still breathing. still running. still laughing. still lovin'. still living. still swinging.



listen to bob marley.