to stop this preoccupation
why, i don't even trust my own judgment?
why fix your gaze at the abstract and mysteriously exciting when you can look inwards and see what's true
counting my marbles...in case i've lost any
fooled around for less than one hour on the violin and you thought i was DONE? for the day? are you joking me??
go ahead, because there'll always be someone else who wants to talk to me
i'm not thinking, not dreaming, not living; i'm practically dead.