"The days run away like wild horses over the hills." - Charles Bukowski

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Feel like there's a hell of energy inside of me, these days, that needs to crack. I mean that whim vigor/ oomph needs to release and suppress. Maybe it has been contaminated for a long while that now I no longer could manage not to make it burst. The fact that it's already hard to verbalise it, makes me sort of suffocate mentally, let alone confide it to anyone or to anything. I find the tempo of my scrambled writing has neurosis. You or your rupture ??!

Narcissism, tricky. I'm quite lost in it. sometimes. shouldn't. therefore, a little bit.

Literally-understandable is not interesting. Abstraction either makes it ostentatious, or plainly void.

"Getting rid of clutter means getting rid of visual distraction and visual stress".

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Ya. Like wild horses over the hills...