There is no huge brain inside of my dome, it was replaced with a slow metronome. It doesn't stop moving, just ticking and talking at night I'm out stalking the streets as my mood swings and sways to the beat in my head. Mania? Yeah, the opposite of dead but in depression I'm just hanging to life by a thread. Swinging back and forth with significant force like a ballpeen hammer, hard enough to **** a horse. Like a blunt force trauma bringing nothing but drama, so I tire of the fire and I suffer but whatever but the flames be growin' higher and it's an oil fire so don't be throwing water or it'll just get hotter and roar louder so dowse me with the baking powder, better yet, a better powder, ya got good coke? Can I get some of that snow chucked into my head sometimes the numbness is better than dead. To quote the great Tom Waits "I'd rather have a bottle in front of me than a frontal lobotomy." I'd say I agree. Though at the end of the day it's not up to me.