And I need something to make me speak.
Make me think. Make me write.
All I can do in this state is hold the secrets of the universe
at my fingertips
useless and without purpose
until I give them one...

Yet as soon as I say that,
and my thoughts brush paper
My mind goes from its beautiful confusion
Sea of tangles and knots that all make cents
to the taught strings of my droll
Normal
Thoughts
that BoRe me with its understandable simplicity