What I Sometimes Mistake For

I Don’t Have Music, Christ I Wish I Had Music But All I Have Is Words.

I Crave White On White And Black, But My Thoughts Race In Glorious Technicolour, Prodding Me Awake, Whipping Away The Warm Blanket Of Invisibility Every Time It Sears To Smother My Mind In Nothing.

They Will Love Me For That Which Destroys Me.

Please. Don’t Switch Off My Mind By Attempting To Straighten Me Out. Listen And Understand, And When You Feel Contempt Don’t Express It, At Least Not Verbally, At Least Not To Me.

But You Have Friends. You Have A Lot Of Friends. What Do You Offer Your Friends To Make Them So Supportave. What Do You Offer Your Friends To Make Them So Supportave What Do You Offer. " ...if I Could Remember Any More Of My Lines I'd Add Them So Basically This Is A Preface To The Whole Play. I Would Like To Quote The Whole Play. Currently My Mind Is Afraid To Remember The Play.