I have such a love/hate relationship with this brand of crazy, its a hair-pulling, phrase-repeating, muscle-memory movement kind of crazy. it makes the same 3 songs on repeat comforting instead of irritating, quirky phrases from intellectual movies your sole method of communication, places time and space travel onto the tips of your fingers, and massages the message that anything is possible into your soul.
beautiful rain men minds live in this place that only those of us on the borderline have to sit back and witness, and we watch intently at the genius and the pain and get scared when we catch glimpses of the inception of those lives imagining, wishing, wanting, hoping for the greatness without the cost of our sanity, our social acceptability, our our
hours go by and no problems get solved, no great mysteries unveiled, but if you wait long enough youll grow tired of the trip, the muscles of mind and body will meet at the crease in your sheet where the pillow case meets, and the rushing, the ranting and raving, the ideas and inventions, the answers to everything will collide into a soft, silent, heap of sleep.
having come on without warning, dissipating the same, making you wonder remorsefully if that edge of enlightened delight will ever return again, the beginning of most ends
*following the suggestion i received "Follow the prompts edit later"
i abhor editing my writing...later at least. ive done well as of late about "correcting" something while writing it the first time. i suppose i just cant imagine feeling altogether similar to what i was feeling when i wrote it the first time.. we. shall. see.
hrm.. i might actually be able to move on now...
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