///ENTIRETY///

I've dabbled in every major you could possibly think of, tried every drug ever concocted, been through every phase & fad in history, read all the authors you never knew existed, slept with all the boys I desired as well as all the boys I didn't, traversed every square centimeter of the globe seven times over, played as many instruments as there are languages, learned as many languages as there are instruments, dreamed the wildest of dreams & survived the most murderous of mares.. but,

now I've a sore lack of life direction, near irreparable hemorrhaging of the brain, a wardrobe teeming with malfunction, an overload of allegories & theories, a little black book of regrettable enumerations, a lot of locations but no place called home, so many sounds but still no maestro, the uncontrollable reflex to think in a thousand languages, no more hopes & no more fears.. so,

what have I really?


Too many things & not enough form.

I spent my life trying to be a part of everything only to fall apart.

Well that was Gestalt-y.