use me, i'm beautiful...

take me, i'm yours...

hurt me, it feels like medicine...

i'm surviving on impulses. i'm doing all those things they say i'm prone to do, save one in particular. i go up. i come down. things come up. things go down. it's a cycle.

i'm only living according to complete cycles and physics, really.

but they tell me it's bad. they tell me it's unhealthy. they tell me to be careful. but morals and health are relative, and i'm as careful as i care to be. so i tell them shove it. i tell them go to hell. i tell them to get off their high, holy horse and walk in my peculiar, weather-beaten shoes.

well, i tell them this all in my head of course. if i were to really tell them any of that they would take it as an open invitation to monologue and lecture on the dangers of my insanity. they would tell me i'm in no position to tell them what to do. 

sanity is overrated though.

normalcy is the result of medication and routine.

it's all so boring, but no matter what i say i'm sure i'll disagree with everything soon enough. it's bound to happen; always does.

but like i said before: complete cycles and physics.