Desperate Cry for Help 047

Look I don't need a break from reality; I don't need a vacation from sanity. I really don't think you can help someone be good and sane if you just lock down their lives and make everything nice and predictable and linear for them.

I know that in your fucked up definition of normal, and good, and sane, and apple sauce, you want to contain, to control, to make us all fit into the boxes, all of us color within the lines. But I want to color the horse green and the clouds purple and the sky silver and you know what? Just fuck off.

I can't even believe that you would even ask me if I think I could feel better with a bit of a rest and some time to reflect on my inner-self.

I don't need to reflect. I just want to live my life at Benny Hill freak out speed and run over anyone or anything that gets in my way.

I can't slow down now. The clock is ticking before I'm trapped in some fucked up box for the rest of eternity, and I'm going to try like hell to get laid, see the world, and do incredibly immoral and interesting shit before all that happens.

I'm off to buy some chocolate!