It feels odd to be who you are but at the same time not feeling like what you are. It's like wearing a crown that's too big for you head and often it falls down. Obscuring your vision and other senses, slowly becoming a nuisance.
Either the crown has to shrink or the head has to grow... which is often a dilemma, made worse by silence and all the little syllables left out of a sentence.
It feels wrong that I am filling in the blanks in my head. How do I even know if it's true? I don't think I have that sense of righteousness to assume what is not said.
Who the fuck do I think I am?
- the monarch of pickles.
There's enough vinegar in my life to go pickle ten jars of cucumbers.
I've run out of time to be eloquent, there simply isn't enough time to deal with all this. I'll just continue with the pickle production in the mean time.
Yes.
It's vague.
Either the crown has to shrink or the head has to grow... which is often a dilemma, made worse by silence and all the little syllables left out of a sentence.
It feels wrong that I am filling in the blanks in my head. How do I even know if it's true? I don't think I have that sense of righteousness to assume what is not said.
Who the fuck do I think I am?
- the monarch of pickles.
There's enough vinegar in my life to go pickle ten jars of cucumbers.
I've run out of time to be eloquent, there simply isn't enough time to deal with all this. I'll just continue with the pickle production in the mean time.
Yes.
It's vague.
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