I have all these thoughts in me: these ideas are all ajar and awaiting my selfish paws. God, they’ve been floating around for days, loosely laced together and waiting for the final stitch—but I’m running out of thread. I need to a break; I need to think, I really need to think. But there’s no quiet place silent enough, no word strong enough; there’s just this thing so fucking potent, and it’s aching in my jaw but not producing any syntax. Damn this thing between us, well it’s helped to make everything flow from my heart to my soul, but it’s stubborn enough to dam it all up too.
