i'm thinking in yeats and pulling my own hair out. shaking like i'm sick or cold, but i'm watching the whole thing like i'm not even really there. I had a dream last night that my skin was coming off, and i woke up i kept thinking i should be sweating or tangled in my sheets, but i wasn't.
i'm supposed to be going crazy, i think. i think thats what all this is supposed to be sayiing, i'm supposed to be going crazy but i'm really not.
i'm supposed to be writing. thats what i'm supposed to do. i look at the blank notebooks i carry around with me, and i feel guilty, as i'm cheating on them.
don't draw don't sing, what do you do? don't draw don't sing, what do you do? frustrated inpsirations follow, must be something inside.
you know you've reached a level, some kind of level, when you find yourself reinterpreting adam ant lyrics and feeling okay about the whole thing
i'm supposed to be going crazy, i think. i think thats what all this is supposed to be sayiing, i'm supposed to be going crazy but i'm really not.
i'm supposed to be writing. thats what i'm supposed to do. i look at the blank notebooks i carry around with me, and i feel guilty, as i'm cheating on them.
don't draw don't sing, what do you do? don't draw don't sing, what do you do? frustrated inpsirations follow, must be something inside.
you know you've reached a level, some kind of level, when you find yourself reinterpreting adam ant lyrics and feeling okay about the whole thing