I ‘m scared. My God.
Afraid to get on the computer and write music. It’s all in my mind … everything is against my chances of writing anything decent. No, it’s not that. Rather all forces against me as I’m some bastard creation. That’s what they keep telling myself. Endless repeating. Don’t like it. Don’t trust it. I need to reset my being. My soul wants to travel again. And again …
Psyche tarnished in cloudy circles. I walked around in it like fog surrounding and pulling me down. Always pulls ‘dem down. I can’t recall when this happened. 88’ 89 (I’m) guessing. Fragmentation
Panic in suburban traffic in the town of Halliburton. They know how to curb ’em using havoc behind fire curtains.\
So, fuck this and fuck that and try your best to change me.
I’m still looming about driving Bay Area
Forgot my childhood in the midst of concrete reconstruction during
So maybe I’ll get soft and dependent on strangers/fragile handle with sloppy care
NAP\\
Went back home to write music that smells of ass
passed out til Xmas eve wearing metal masks and cat socks
Kissed a knife cause loneliness effects everyfuckingone= every fuck n gone …
inwex 