The thing that really turns me on is the words the people use… the power of the choice of words. How words can be used to evoke such intense emotion. The way certain words are emphasized. The beauty of grammar. And the dangerous beauty of breaking grammar rules. Trying to remember the grammar rules. It’s a hazy, hazy fog in my head. I am struggling to be heard but I can’t even hear YOU over all of this yelling screaming blue purple red violet work life car mom vwc drug Prozac allergies caffeine wine booze booze booze memories memories tumors and matter and trees and… this is what it feels like to be crazy. I can’t see. My glasses are dirty. My glasses are dirty. They always feel dirty. I always feel dirty. Wrong. Afraid. I like to be afraid. It makes me feel safe. I like cycling down into my mind and seeing what I find in there and seeing how it makes people react. It never ceases to amaze me the words that comes out of the mind and the word that we withhold in it. We’re all looking for god because we’re all looking for a reason to believe that there is a reason that the inner world is the way that it is. Some people’s answer is that there can’t be a god because no loving god would ever let me know the pain of living AND loving – knowing that when either end they end so painfully. And most of the times, they end up happening together. But to die, knowing that you were living AND loving…? What a sacred thing.
Sacred….

See – powerful word.