Beauty. Beautify outside, unedited, I translate. I do do do. I translate so we can hear. So humans can hear. I borrow and press these words. Frame them so we see it as art. So I can translate it to something that everyone can sing from.


Feeling angry, feeling confused, conflicted, torn. Feeling stuck, feeling scared but excited. Something is clawing at my chest, it doesn’t hurt it’s more annoying. Something ache something ache again and again. Feels the same but you say it is different, is it? Can you tell me if it’s different? I’D BE HAPPY IF IT WAS ONLY JUST A LITTLE BIT DIFFERENT. Remembering page a day, like it was a really long time ago. Questioning things. I am choosing to listen to the walls. I listen to them because I can hear them. They are not speaking about Home, not speaking about what I want them to speak about or maybe they are. I don’t know, I feel a little stuck, like I want to run but I am told to stay I am scared to run, will people think I am mad? Or does everyone want to run? Do they? Do they? Still so much time. Listen to the walls, listen listen. Don’t say should, don’t think should. Should is could for someone who lives by their parents expectations. Can I sit still for a minute and feel this discomfort? Will it rot my brain, or will it grow like a tumour and be fed to these rodents like fresh fruit. Deamons growing with might, wisdom and wit hahahah. Laugh they do laugh laugh it’s over soon, it’s over you’ll be in the ground when you sit still. Can you stop to think? Can you can you can you can you. Ask but don’t reply, when you reply you have to do as you say, then you are stuck. Stuck till everything just dies. Maybe it is better maybe it is better to just wait for that.