I'm more than a little crazy. Often really weird. But always splendiferous. I live my life in hyperbole and onomatopoeia. I find more meaning in movies and television and books then I do in real life. My friends are my family.
I never have trouble saying what I mean, unless I'm saying something that matters, in which case the words seem to slip past me. What do I write about? I haven't a clue. I'm not a writer - I just write. Like as not, it'll be filled with angst or random things like "Beady Eyes is right, we're needed!" One would hope that it won't be filled with angst *about* the random things.
Hands in line Arms close to my side I'm fighting tides of an ocean's undertow And I figure I might not make it And I'm taking empty But seldom keeping And the words retreat breathing histories into stories untold And I unfold.
And I'm waking empty but seldom sleeping And the words repeat breathing histories into stories untold And I unfold.