why must woman be the outwardly complicated creatures.
why must men then point, sigh and say "oh well".
does it seem like God just plays us like a Sims game.
for his amusement. his entertainment.
because he is so upset that baby jesus is now amusement for Dan Brown.
I feel like streaking.
foaming at the mouth.
trying to find meaning in every little thing I am doing.
I seem to communicate better with strangers these days.
and I can't hear anything by my own thoughts.
screaming, creeping, mumbling in every dream.
I am haunting myself.
why must I be a complicated creature.
and why must you point.
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