KyleF

BLinK

Thought

s t h g u o h T

der webs i p s e k i l e r a

Complex

Regret

Re he gr wo ar et pa un t l st ou inf ds ea ab vi s t. ul t m o l ng at em et op t or th en he ie e s se ep

Isolation vs Solitude

How come I have to suffer my internal suffering. I need to free myself from my mind. Maybe if I stop talking to myself the shrieking will end‌

My playhouse is under-­ neath our house and I can hear people telling each other secrets...

I am lying in a pool of my own blood. I am looking up smiling, because the whispering, THE SECRETS are gone. They are all gone...

Thoughts are the shadows of our feelings- always darker, emptier, and simpler.

In milliseconds an idea is brought to my brain and processed in my factory of thoughts

I b e l i e v e t h a t a l m o s t a l l o u r s a d -­ n e s s e s a r e m o m e n t s o f t e n s i o n t h a t w e f i n d p a r a l y z i n g b e c a u s e w e n o l o n g e r h e a r o u r s u p r i s e d f e e l i n g s living...

Maybe if I was a songbird I could live my life to its fullest

, g n i w a r

d

n n i

I “ s

d : e n e o c i o t r a

p p

s i s e c y p i a a t w c l s An a e

e s c a w a r l t a

t i

the ´ :

t Q h R g L i V n L

Y e

h I t R

G O H ¿

H K W

ess roc ld p sen cou s. Es ing hat vel avel ye t tra be tr ? n e ts g a igh uld not vin an l wo d it e ha th eye oul gin ster gle e, w Ima t fa s sin tim h thi gh lig lly throu tia

Fleas interest me so much that I let them bite me for hours.

They are perfect, ancient, sanskrit, machines that admit of no appeal.

They do not bite to eat, they bite only to jump; they are the dancers of the celestial sphere, delicate acrobats in the softest and most profound circus; let them gallop on my skin, divulge their emotions, amuse themselves with my blood, but someone should introduce them to me.

I want to know them closely, I want to know what to rely on.

This is how a gentleman.

MONSTER Dashing, Youthful, MANIACAL RAGING KILLING MACHINE. Begins his day.

Sublime.

The beautiful, according to Edmund Burke, is what is well-formed and aesthetically pleasing, whereas the Sublime is what thas the power to appeal and destory us.

The savages tie me up to a branch hanging over the fire. It won’t be much longer. Soon the smoke will set in and I will suffocate from the carbon monoxide. Soon… Soon….. Soon………. Soon…………………………

Soon……………………………………. Gone

Amplified

When the sun goes down they do not know if they will wake to live another day the core Gla ss is s my han t u ck ds in E

o l xp

n i d

H g

t r a e