jetta

-allo;
I am striving still to to the metalic beat of my own drum, marching endlessly until I've succeded in traumatizing your minds with hangnails of shrapnall
and dilluded your ego.
Greasing the hinge's in my wrist and giving my fingers their fair turn to speak. Only left to fair without the garnishing of a more prefered tool;
If only you could hear the rhythm that
embodies this human case, - to know the real me ...to hear these thoughts.
wandering around in the heat , paring up to dementia pushing the rational norms to a half naked frenzy, people become much more passive; and expose also more of whome they may really be without the security of winter
layers to mask what is.-
As nature - for those durring the winter months
you will notice; are shuffeling around the masses looking with their ankles to not bother themselfs with submitting to looking up or apon
anyone they quickly assume isnt worth thier time. -stupid.
Fortunately for the ragging heat we find ourselvs forced to slightly bend inward and now raising the level of perseption; the world around you, once again seems new and almost
inviting..
The layers have droped and the image, chizzeld.
-Personally I loath the razor like sunshine and
all of the nearly naked civillians- but how intensly the rhythm grows to an almost audio decible; that each stranger we passed before
demming unworthy of our upward glance,
falls victim to raised curriousity and newly opend sky's....