i dont speak of whats mine because what actually might be mine might not actually be what's mine.
shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. half a lined and sketchy world is quiet.
when this is happens i fall apart like a stack of marbles that can't hold it's own liquor.
i'm rolling everywhere to everyplace to every city to every idea. no i wasn't really there.
but i was. i was. i was. i was. i see things ways you don't. i believe in things you damn well don't.
when everything becomes noisey again. i shoot back up to normal. solid. something seen. so you can see me.
just for a moment anyways. when you go quiet again. i go back to rolling.