Why today,

when I walk into a theatre I want to leave; even to see people I would love to see? Why is it that when I open a book at random, I can't wait to close it again despite everything in it that might interest me? Why do I suffocate in culture?

I want a body that carries me and legs that walk. I feel like not knowing who you are deep down if it means first having to confront your surface friendliness.

I'm a loose sum who can't stand the sterile ordering of thought. Stop your Hollywood gum or Pleiades, I don't care, you see and yet I don't have a gun to go out and tell you. No bowling, no Columbine.

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