Absolutely Miles Away …too many clouds, too little time…

sleevespeech

I could wear my heart on my sleeve like such critically unacclaimed phrasiology, but you’d still never really believe what I try to say. It may be a joke to you but a serious truth to me. This neverending joke may even be more funny than my ironic being is to you. My thoughts are primed as padding in the mind - just like a head full of fluffy cotton wool - for the crushing blows I fear may exist around every corner, were I ever able to walk around them. Hearts on sleeves? What happened to the other suits?

Terribly unable. Unable to act in the proper way. To be the proper person. To think the proper thoughts. Whatever proper means; my improper is the opposite to the normal allusions to the rules, even subject to the extremities of politeness or eccentricity.

I cannot stop this unwritten dialogue, this overwhelming urge to think. To explore within the soul’s boundaries. To purge.

I can never stop thinking.

Mindbullets travel far faster than speech ever could.

And how those mindbullets are flying. Hurrah, I say, to the art of proper and improper thinking, writing, purging.

Colin : Thank you very much!

Here’s to the splurging.