In a wave of consciousness and lucid smiling, I am in and I am out. There I stand before him. And he looks on at me, I know there are two of him now, I understand that, and sometimes I love the one more than the other that day depending on what words and what looks come out of him. And me, who am I, what voices of streams are in my head, this dialogue of selves in a world of consuming and throwing up pills. Take this, take that, do this and do that, I don't do any of that, I do me and I do me really well. Extremely me, down to the very whispers that spill out, even with the taxi cabs passing by and concrete steps, every step I take and every cigarette inhale, I breath, I talk, I spill my guts in my head to myself. I am a mess of thoughts and looks, the eyes, my eyes tell it, and you can almost feel the freeway in my mind, sometimes clear, sometimes congested, sometimes dead because it is 3:00 a.m and I am passed out.

-lovingly M8rla XOXO