it feels like running an all out sprint
while sitting still
heart hammering inside my rib cage like a rabid owl that just spotted a dormouse
and not in the good way
not in the did i just do a rail of meth off a stripper’s thigh way
not in the did she just look at me and acknowledge i exist way
in the you are going to die
everything is falling apart around you
how did you manage to fuck everything up and allow it to spiral out of control until all that is left is a crater on the side of a mountain way
it’s probably all in my head
but if my brain doesn’t melt and slide out of my ears like a grey gelatinous goo
or my heart doesn’t blow at least three valves trying to vent the pressure
my eyes could rupture from the immense fluid build up behind them
there’s not enough oxygen and too much at the same time
the best part of waking up is the weight of the world on your back
better than coffee and crank and speed and meth and coke and love
for killing you quickly without a moment’s notice
Damn. Wow.
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You have a bit of intensity to you don’t you?
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yes. it is a defining trait. an annoying one but ever since i learned what hyperbole was it became the greatest thing ever. never an air of mystery as what i am thinking is said before my brain acknowledges my mouth.
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Eh, well it’s one I relate to. I have put in a great deal of effort to keep mine a bay, it definitely annoys other people.
I like it, yours. Mine though, yes it feels annoying
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it’s a trait that is wonderful in others but the sense of always feeling raw is grating to ourselves. i can’t hide mine even if i should. wouldn’t if i could. no one is ever so harsh a critic as one is to oneself.
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