The Girl of Chaos

"I don’t do drugs. I tried them once. They gave me nothing but a reason to stay away from them.

I don’t drink regularly. It’s a waste of money and a process of self destabilization.

I don’t drive hastily. It’s my responsibility to drive my machine straight.

I don’t steal. It’s for people who are deprived of their wants with their hands outstretched and empty.

I don’t stray - not without purpose.

I don’t call myself sane - I don’t desire to be. I am not idle. I just exist.

I don’t cry. Vulnerability equals destruction.

I just smoke. It’s something I call my own..every pattern of that white thickness is my creation...vanishes in the air without judgement from the onlookers. The judgement comes on me, not my deep exhale of satisfaction.

I don’t have many friends...their flaws are too superior and their concerns - too trivial.

I don’t have love. It’s not as readily available as a dick.

I am not cold to a stranger. Just indifferent to their curiosities and ways.

I don’t hurt myself. It can never compete with the internal wounds.

I don’t call people ugly. They are just so beautiful that they forget others exist.

I don’t fight. Not with a person who is incapable of absorbing my reasons.

I don’t shout. Except at the walls.

I have a family...big enough to fill my house.

I don’t need people. They are just empty vessels.

I play the guitar. The strings are like my life...every mood, every string has a different beautiful music...but if not handled with care...lay aside..untouched..unaccessed..unimportant...all by itself..

My life is a glass full of crystal clear water...filled to the brim...the water is my 

thoughts..my music..my books...my time...my space..my sky..my pages..my smiles..my 

tears..my laughs..my light...my darkness...my past..my present...my concerns..my 

insecurities...my room..my bed...my journey. Another "alien" drop would make it 

overflow.

AM I TOO FULL OF MYSELF??"