I just have to start and see what ends up on the page. I would love to be artistic, but the melody plays sour notes today. It is a get away that my words bring to the page. There is a lot of animosity in my environment. I want to just sit and stare into space. Insanity mallady is pulsing in beings in my vicinity. I draw the cords by me and then move away. I try to be imaginative and correct, but I am finding it hard to see. I am surprised that I even know me.
It feels like nuclear winter and I am on the wrong continent. Everyone was too interested in the bright shiny bomb when they needed to concentrate on the rage of the community. I know not what will happen next. Explosions are a daily occurance. Rage my way makes poor dollars and sense, but they do it anyway. I am tired, but I seldom feel fear. I will reach the summit and malady reality can be yours today.
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