I’m on a psychedelic high; rupturing any ideas that will cause me my demise.
Ruining any moment associated with doubt; expressing it louder than a shout – I hope you understand what I am talking about.
I feel I express entirely too much; I want to come out of that habit, because they’re other ways to pick myself up.
As I move forward down this road, I feel in my heart that I’m actually going somewhere; from my view it’s here or there, so I’m told.
Heat and moisture can either make clouds or mold – depending on circumstance you either fly to the sky or drive down a road.
I’m struggling to make this make sense! I’m frazzled with scaling walls, and hopping every fence!
I’m being charged a price that wasn’t my expense….
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