I'm your average person i guess in the sense that there's nothing average about me. The normalacy that doesnt exist is also invisible in me. plagued with the hardships of the world and my own scattered glimpses of what sanity really is. My poetry is just what comes out i guess, unstoppable just the way breathing is. you dont know how big of a breath you'll take each time but you know its coming and the regularity is oddly comforting. And so it is with me, the grand contridiction of regularity and the unpredictable. in a way it just is, just the way i just am. that doesnt mean its good, but it does mean that i havent yet submitted to the thoughts of insanity bouncing through my head, but then again how would you ever know I hadn't?
