Day 3 without cloud filled skies.
How I'd love to scoop just a glassful of cloud and slurp it all up to clear my head of these thoughts.
Strange empty thoughts of nothingness.
I never have those. And you would think that empty thoughts don't even exist.
Like if they're of nothing then they're not even there.
But no. I see fully illustrated thoughts of the inside of vaccuum cylinders.
Of no color, of no sound, and of no content.
Empty-headed fucks probably actually have fully formulated thoughts.
Highly descriptive concepts of barren nothingness.
Can you picture this?
How the hell can I?
It PAINS me.
And I can feel everything too much.
There's a pounding that shakes my whole upper body to the rythm of my heart beat.
It's like a 1070's VW bug engine, loud and boisterous and pumping.
While it's refreshing to know that I'm alive, the whole rocking back and forth like a rowboat in high surf makes me want to gag empty stomach contents and bitter saliva all over my bedspread.
I can feel the blood racing through my veins like cold white light.
A stark shining feeling. Like the screaming white noise and static of a tv with no cable or satellite hookup.
Like speeding traffic of coked up drivers on an uncharacteristically high paced 405 freeway.
It's all so fucking serious.
I'm so fucking serious.
And don't you hate me this way?
I do.
As I do with you.

Come on,
Just give me ONE taste.