what is this life? and how many psychs am i gonna go to until i apreciate someone else's opinion, and how the fuck would i pay any of them? i am too fucking crazy to figure it out myself, it sometimes just feels like running up against a brick wall of yourself over and over again, you know if you could just side step you'd get by, but for some reason you find yourself stuck in momentum face first into a mold of you everytime., i guess i'm wearing it out or something. why is it so hard for me to concentrate?, why am i so god damned weird? why am i so sad?, why am i so sore? Why am i so explosive? Why does my brain only work when i am all alone and on a skateboard?, why do i know everything sometimes?, those times. Why do i feel it all beating under my tongue waiting for the word to come across the cross hatched brain? why do i sing and sometimes i scream? why does having someone to hold and love make all those things fucking beautiful?... Wtf is wrong with me? more on this later of course.