Seriously though deleriously so I smashed my index finger between two ten pound weight plates at the gym now I’m typing rather gingerly cringeing but still here still springing creativity to life vividly like crystal rotating with sunlight illuminating twilight like an expensive disco ball might then I’ll shatter it darkening the earth incrementally more incentively poor invested cellar door hell bent warped not an uptight gent, willing to fight for lint, but nice as if a part of me was christ— sacrelidge? I’m smacking kid’s foster parents like they were clown faced punching bags lunching on fake fads I’ve got a hunch that I’m sad, but I cling to not being a dunce like a bunch of Bush voter’s in the past my writing seems to last I seem to ignite and blast when my fuse is at wick’s end and my wits multiply like rabbits turning into different colors twirling in blending never brown but something profound and possibly not sensed by sight like that lurching heartbeat of the night…