Im stuck by abusurdity.
I'm stuck in a level headed world.
I'm reigned in disguise, a paradox of sorts
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I recall what it was like to enjoy the small moments in life. To breath, and say let live.
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What the fuck am I saying? I have way too many ideas which I cannot note down because everything keeps popping up like some freakin popcorn transforming my brain into a micro-fucking-wave.
I should be able to write fiction. After all, it's my secret devotion that has stayed with me through time. Whether we accomplish to keep this ancient remedy of the human soul in the future pure or not, I'll know that I know these moments where I can keep it pure. Where everything comes from my brain to my fingertips, and occasionly stops in the way and reaches my heart.
I should finish my homework..
Later aligator.
Elemeno-pee,
kelly
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