It begins with the purposeless rhythm of my knee bouncing.
Then comes the biting of my fingers.
It's not like the bouncing knee
sends me into a melodious state of mind.
The taste of my own skin and nails doesn't pleasure me.
Why pay this fee?
It turns me on.
It pushes me.
It makes me act.
It's how I begin to see.
How long can you constantly be pushing just to get started?
And at what point does your body say no to the suffocation?
it's when my throat begins to close,
and then tears begin to sting my eyes, and suddenly,
everything is coming at me at once.
Everything attacking me from all angles.
People attack me, expectations attacks me,
my very own body attacks me.
Spitting out my own skin and nails never stops this invasive state.
Nor will anything else.
It's the cancer of the soul.
Away is where I want to be.
Alone. Without others.
In a place where don't push for the reason of others.
Never doing silly things to start yourself up. You can simply exist.
Be in my mutual world, mindless distractions of others do not exist.
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