And he said that it’s normal
that it’s a human reaction
but I’m dizzy, from this spiralling
from this everlasting spiralling

Singing borrowed melodies
from a mind seeking, trying, never finding
Speaking borrowed words
from a mind repeating, like a heart beating

Carbon copies of ghosts who’ve come before
Don’t know whose voice is in my head anymore
I can only use language when I have time to think
I’m silent and empty when I’m pushed to the brink

And he said I’m making anxiety
into a living entity
like it has a hold on me.
Oh, it has a hold on me.

Reflecting, regretting, always suppressing
Sometimes this distress has seemed like a blessing
Scrambling for possession of any part of me
Control is my obsession
I’m losing my fleeting creativity.

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wandering, laughing, boycotting evil, environmentalism, puns, vegetarianism, writing, annoying whoever will stick around long enough, writing music, singing, innuendo, busking, snowboarding and awkward leaning are all things I'm either enjoying or attempting with varying degrees of success.

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