Well, every day you lose more color. Do you think that someone paints your mirror?
So you think that things sound different at the time when you speak.
Well, there are visions much clearer than these blurs that you see
And like Neely O'Hara you swallow your sleep, and wake up in the morning to find you are not who you used to be. 
You don't recognize the behavior or the spelling of your name and the shape that is in the mirror. Well, you'd swear it is not the same
and you really can't remember
but you know you are not,
think that you are not,
no you are not who you used to be. Today I remembered how it used to be like: The overwhelming feelings - intense fear, a backed corner, a throbbing head and that feeling you get before the rollercoaster flies from such great heights and your heart drops and that other one where you're claustrophobic but you're stuck in a crowded room and everything around you is spinning and spinning and you're drowning in other people's euphoria and joy but you can't speak, your throat's constricted and your cries for help are formed only in your mouth, silent and desperate - and I felt the worst in ages, but I didn't want to talk about it. No, it wasn't anything to do with cheer. Thank you Claire and Sarah thiam. I've been listening to Bright Eyes a lot and I love Conor Oberst. Also, that. I've recently succeeded (5th! Feb! 2007!) but then I'm a daily failure and I wanted to get out of that mess - mess mess and more mess, mess that consumes and swallows you head to toe, the unease in the stomach that builds till it's larger than life - and I did but now I'm going to sink back into it for now (those red angry lightning strikes marking failure across the unsettled mixture in the sky) and let it be my escape and I'm tired and if you | 
