Youknowell…You’ve Got One Too, but you knew that.

This is the strangest thing ever, remember this:

Fogginess on either side, can’t see a thing, pretty?, Ladder with 15 steps at least, parenthesis already known/aren’t true, “hold on, shh…” I wake up. “…okay, now”, remember beginning and end of conversation, multiple personalities?, Tumor?, God?, Angels?, “remember this”, like Jason’s deli more because they aren’t there, like darkness can think more, Oct. 10 ear that night or the next God dream, hallucinations from tumor?, everything came together for this, stream-of-consciousness, ANGELS, clear thoughts rhymed and went on, “you have to leave”, zebras are bigger than horses I’ve heard, need clear path, won’t move to Seattle too far away from New York, want to be taken care of, recycling.

You don’t have to tell me this, you know.

In ending, either I have a tumor, or God wants me bad.

Or both.

Oh, gum nervous, “I don’t think I know this, but”, SubconsciouS,

Very Crazy.

I really do like myself I just need something to worry about.

I’m glad I yelled at you, ‘cause I’m glad it’s not recycled.

Articulate.

“I’m happy that we’re this way because we could’ve become something that everyone’s had and ruins and now we’re something no one will ever have forever.”

You can’t tell us.

And this is private, for a little while.

(I don’t want to go to work. I just want to drive to work. Driving is like an ocean, and the music chooses how fast the tides are.)

And: Sand Bar is a stopping point.

(Hopefully so was that sentence.)