backdrifting

Write,write,write,write. I feel so paranoid, sticky, devoid.
Iwanttojustlieherewithmywriter'sblockanddreamcolorless.
I want to write meaningful 2 liners, I want to move you, to not share,
share,
share,
share, Aderol,obsessive compulsive.
Its not that,its just that I understand, I get it, like 3 billion other people in the world, I get it. Don't you understand? You with your buzz cut, you wandering aimlessly but not lost. My brain is moving and changing rainbow colors.
Conformity? No staying between the lines,biting nails, swallowing fists.Scatterbrain,butter fingers, oil oozing out of foods. Flexible dances, so many avenues to lie in front of, so many ancient doors to open. Green, glitter, frosty (bites?shakes?), Jack the Ripper, Rush Limbau (?), Film School, summer,pretty,pretty hot summer. Falsettos. All of them, Thom, Andy, Jonsi, Devendra. The bass line.
I think I'm very disturbed,or maybe its what I want to be? An icon. A fucking icon. Don't care how. Skinny, smokey, ponderous, mysterious. There is no way not to think,not to write,not to sing,not to try and be. My soul is outlining my body as I hum gibberish. My soul is trapping me, bottle-capping my pores, inhaling my air.
Don't look at me expectantly, I don't want to talk to you, I am in a world so far removed from this one.
Full of veins, antlers, roots,magical light,secret doors, pulsating air,vibrating music,and no one.
No one?
There is always someone.
Stop the thoughts,the thinking, I cannot...no..its...draining..eating,emptying.
*sigh*
stop.
Put me in a hole, or put me down.