There are times I get so engorged
With a trove of strange energy inside
That results from a thick, heavy diaphragm cast between the Id and Superego,
I feel like I'm going to throw up.
Or cry.
Or both, when I'm undecided.
There's a blockage somewhere inside me.
I don't know the cause. Or cure.
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I've got all these crafty ideas in my head.
An iPod case, beaded hair bands, more brooches (currently mulling over how to make a masculine flower pin), fabric belts made out of vintage remnants.
If only I could recalibrate all this tumultuous feuding into creative energry.
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I feel frayed.
I'm all seams.
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With my iPod
The total eclipse is now put in place.
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Did I say that I love you?
Did I say that I want to
Leave it all behind?
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I should stop listening to depressing music.
Yea.
A little Beaumont and Pizzicato Five should help.
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