Listen, that’s all I appear to say. How my thoughts turn to words and my words turn to declarative screams, rushing and bashing, sparring with that deafening silence that I love so much. Communication, the base of all history. Listen, I know I don’t know the things I think, the ideas that I idea. But on that deafening silence takes its arms and strangles my bare body like the log that sticks out in the middle of the river!
Listen is what I only hear from myself as I blurt out my mind, instantly regretting whatever I had said. Then seeing the oh so subtle annoyance in my own eyes from a reflection, so quick like the flick of a whip on my back, leaving scars that are only rested for a single pair of eyes.
Listen, I understand that my crazy and outlandish thoughts and phrases seem to never end but with my own biased judgement that coincides with everyone’s open opinion, I find myself sinking deeper into the sick mud outside the doorstep, creeping around my shoe.
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