A man shouting of a hellish fire.... That was my earliest memory. Long ago, but somehow
later than now. A time long gone but somehow still to happen. As if something I am
anticipating expecting and remembering. Thats what fuels me to do what i do what I've done,
What i will do. As if all the same thing. Everyday Seems to be faster tham the last. And I
run trying to keep up.
This is my story, a story thats long from over. But begging to be heard.
A sound of static beeping fading and sharpining to chrips as I awake to a blue Jay
Shrieking at my ears as I awake. The window slams as my arm pulls it up while my other arm
launches a shoe.
But I made my point.
The shower is the most torturous part of my day. It Slaps me more relentlessly
than a womans hand.
A rock shaped loaf of bread stares it me as I Stare back. I loose. I eat it. almost
as pleasant as it's apeal, nonetheless food.
I'm late, but i don't care. "Why are you late!