A catalyst is a chemical that speeds up reactions.
At least that’s what I learned in chemistry class.
Catalysts sometimes are the major factors in a reactions and without them,
The reaction could never happen.
Catalyst can be lab chemicals,
alcohol,
drugs,
coffee even,
or a person.

While lounging around one afternoon you were talking physics
And I turned it on your head and spoke of chemistry,
Knowing full well that I was speaking of our personal chemistries.
You were right, the physics of a relationship gives us the laws,
But CHEMISTRY can predict the outcome.
If you do the math and follow the directions,
you can determine the product without even doing the experiment.

Unless the reaction you are creating has never been attempted before by the scientists preforming the experiment.

They can flip through the books,
Read the essays,
Study the theorems,
Even attempt the calculations,
But if they don’t do the actual experiment,
They will never find their outcome.

Some things need a push,
A catalyst,
For them to form a bond,
React,
And combine into a stable combination.
Hypotheses must be TESTED, ACCEPTED, and RATIFIED
Before becoming a law.

No matter how based in logic your hypothesis might be,
You need the universe and its fundamental laws to back it up.
There are still surprises left in the universe.
Maybe you and I can be one of them.

Having Heaven is over rated anyway.
You could exhaust ecstasy.
Never mind nirvana.
You torment me with your bashful bliss.
Nothing could ruin this rapture.
I'm Preforming in Purgatory trying to win you over.

You’re wishing plus wanting
to win the other side
remove your pride,
you untied tidal pool,
the wide subdivide of these paper pages.

Unrelenting numbers
remind you of the next stages,
taking you wildly to Namibia,
surrendering you to Zimbabwe,
the terminal station.
The narration vocalizes the translation of quotations,
your obligation to the violation of the rules, the regulations,
vulgarization of spoken word.

Pretty paintings plaster typecasts,
the pitter-patter of pity’s pretty ******,
quickly shifting refurbished velvet sofas.
Overcast symphonies outlast
witty recast stanzas,
scores with notes naturally quote
verses romancing seltzer spines
noticing the negotiation of sore throats.  
Oblivion’s oblivious to the people,
obnoxiously obscene with syncopated
saturation of public vital signs.

You’re the vain strain of virus
photocopying yourself within skin,
waste your sin on tattoos trapped on shins
safety pins selecting prints
pinning sets of twins to tanned wrappers
protecting official reports.
The ossuary welcomes records printed on thick paper
suspiciously missing skeleton swords.

Writing stories reversed while tipsy,
quickly preforming risky poetry smog,
sweetly omitting secret words,
trying to spell simply without the proper prologue.

i once dated a boy who found it "adorable" that i know how to change my headlights
     fill my radiator
     change the oil
     and notice every stopsign as i'm halfway through it
he dumped me via text

before that
there was a boy who loved my lack of first person capitalization
     my over-use of metaphores and similies
     the way i personify the night
     and practice preforming poetry in the shower
he took off into the sunset with my journal in his shoulder-sack

and somewhere in between
i stopped asking myself what it means
threw up my hands
     and learned to enjoy the ride

The other night I snuck into the Grammys
It really wasn't that hard you see
I was dressed as the Daft Punk dude on the left
My own mother wouldn't have recognize me

I was on the elevator at the Ritz-Carlton
When one of those robots stepped in by himself
So I knocked him out then tied him up
And left him bundled up in the stair well

I put on the suit and the helmet
It's not hard to fake a french accent in those
The only problem I encountered that evening
Was the strong desire to scratch my nose

You know I was the life of the party
Mingling with all of the stars
For awhile I sat in the row with Shawn and Yoko
Still don't know which ones from Venus and which ones from Mars

I'm sure in the circles that those two hang with
They are as normal as all of the rest
Of course most of the rockers I met that night
Put normality to the test

I was a little nervous about preforming
But I just put my boogie shoes on
The only one there who would notice my radical rhythm
Was Stevie and he couldn't see what was going on

When we went up to accept our award
I waved and mumbled under my breath
I must of made it sound mighty profound
As the crowd all clapped and nodded their heads

I really had the best of times that night
Partying like it was 1999
Prince wasn't there but who really cares
When your behind Beyonce in the Mambo line

My radio just went silent
Another episode of mimes
Most of them are reruns
That they play from time to time

I'm pretty sure I've heard this one
Where they're in that tiny box
Not sure if they're trying to get in or out
Either way I wish them luck

I don't know how they do it
Mimes on the radio
Oh listen, it's the pretend to fly off with the umbrella routine
Truly a favorite of them all

You can pick them up on several stations
Though I'm partial to AM59
Out in the middle of nowhere in a rain storm
Seems to me to be the best of times

So if you find yourself in radio silence
Don't reach to change the channel out right
Just sit back and enjoy
The finest in Radio Mime

WAIT A MINUTE...THIS IS CRAZY
Is that three mimes that I don't hear
Preforming the famous Zambolini Mime Trick
In which two mimes died last year

I don't think that I can listen
The silence is killing me
Don't they know what they're attempting
Is pure insanity

Someone tell me when it's over
It can't take the suspense, this heart of mine
For there is nothing more exciting
Than an afternoon of radio mimes

My momma always warned me
She’d say
“Baby doll liquor runs through our veins”
I was making a family tree for health class last week and a third of the people hanging from the branches had beer bottles clinking next to them.
My grandfather’s favorite hobby was downing a bottle of jack and carrying out the cliché tradition of beating his wife and kids
Just like his father did.
My dad learned from this vowing never to forget what alcohol did too his family
My uncle he drinks just trying to forget.
My mother has a similar background
She remembers riding into town with my grandma to buy her granddaddy’s medicine
It was only until she was older she realized the pharmacy was an ABC
The “medicine” cheap whiskey
As the elixir slid down my great grandfathers throat it trickled into the workings of our tree
Infecting its core
Yeah my parents would always warn me
Against the dangers of alcohol
Don’t drink the punch at parties
Don’t be like your uncles
Don’t end up like your aunts
But what they failed to tell me was depression runs through our veins too
They taught me how to ward off being a drunkard
But never told me to stay away from the dark spaces in my mind
They never taught me what to do about the numbness
And in my house people are more ashamed
Of going to therapy than alcoholics anonymous.
How do you protect yourself from something already inside you?
You see those relatives of mine
They were doctors
Preforming at home blood transfusions
Replacing the bad blood with good beer
The dark thoughts with white wine
Until the depression swimming through them was too drunk to see straight
We nurture our family tree with PBR and Prozac
Helping the roots twist and grow so they can grasp for the younger generation dangling from the lower limbs and I mean
Hey we all need something to make the feelings go away
And they say alcohol’s not the answer
But it sure as hell makes you forget the question
We all need something to forget the questions
And Like my kin I picked my poison
Because I felt it
The liquor in my veins I felt it
getting warmer
Hotter
Hot
This liquid in my veins it gets too hot.
I’m slitting my wrist to poor myself another shot
It’s not what it looks like momma
I just wanna feel that buzz and my blood is all I got
I picked my poison
I’m like my uncles
A crude copy of my aunts
I’m an addict
Just not an alcoholic

Usually when I tell my stories
They are a bit exaggerated but
I found what true desire was when
I walked in a room with strictly white walls
And saw you standing there
Like god had the angels sculpture every inch of your body
Making sure every bone was carved perfectly into place
So people in the future
Who dig our graves
Will study your fossils
And debate
If you were a human or maybe
Something more

I saw every scar
That formed into
Tick marks
On your spine
Along with every freckle
That was placed along your body
Like the constellations
I saw looking out my window
When you called
And asked me to sneak out to meet you
And I said no

And in that room
I trusted you
And let you open my chest
Like you were preforming
Open heart surgery
And I was dreaming
The whole time
But somehow could still see you
Dancing
To every beat
Like it was the first musical composition
Of A minors and B flats
Your ears have ever heard
And I could see your eyes racing

As you watched every pulse
When you were leaving your finger prints
For me to keep

I have never been able to feel
Any moment in time
Like I can with the minutes I spent with you
And all I remember after leaving
Was a road that went straight ahead
The ground was simply dirt
And I walked alone
With a pocket mirror
Leaving you behind
Because you refused to leave the place
Where our hearts had intertwined
You refused to leave that moment in time

I believe the silence in that room
Did not exist
After I left
The voices of demons came spilling
Out of the walls
Telling you every part of every moment we spent
Was wrong

But you still chose to stay in that room

I kept walking and using that mirror
To see if
I still had
Who you loved
Within me
When I had to deal with every consequence
That went with my temptation
With our temptation
And it was of good
Use when I wanted to look back
And try to find you
But you still seemed to be in that room
And I know the dumb thing would be to
Turn back so I didn’t
I only let my mind rewind
And pause at all my favorite parts
And some say you kept one foot in and the other out after a while
But that was all
And at that point I had already thrown
The mirror on the ground
Because I heard voices on the dirt path telling me to
Carry on
And I did
With empty pockets
And lonely hands
He tried to fit his fingers forcefully
Into the spaces yours fit perfectly
How could I ever find a suitable replacement
For a person
Whose fingerprints
Leaked into my veins
Like a virus
I promise
I do not look at it as a curse
But as your very own gift
And I am proud to be your live host
But without you
Its killing me
I have tried to avoid
Any moment in time
I felt anything for you
(You need to know I had no choice
But to lie
I was afraid of being alone
I didn’t want to leave that room
But you know I had to
I loved you so much
I still do
It drives me insane)
And I’d scream
I wanted nothing to do with you
Echoing
I wonder if you ever heard
But those screams were the demons
Trying to sculpture me
And I knew I couldn’t pretend anymore
I could only hope
You were coming for me
Because I was now struggling after miles and miles
My legs feeling heavier with every step
I could only hope
You could use your speed
And your way with strategy
To find a way to catch up to me
I’ve been waiting months
And I have become numb to any other moment in time
And unless you had taken the wrong
Route
Or had somehow gotten lost within the straight path
Because my foot prints did get washed away with the snow
That has gone and passed


If you had somehow gotten lost
I hope you realize which way you are
Suppose to be going
Because I am still here
Waiting for
You.

You know those moments in life where your thoughts are SO LOUD? Blaring over all actions your preforming as you watch them race and bounce through your head. All the sudden I realized how badly I would give anything just to be able to see him face to face one more time... Just to spend one more night together, limbs as one and hearts beating together with our chest plates pressed tight together.

As I sit there in the shower and let the wave pass I laid down on my back and just let the water hit me wherever it pleased. Staring up at my shower, watching the water run down and the little droplets on the ceiling in such a perfect formation, life just felt so poetic down there. Everything I was feeling had imagery of perfect poetry lines scribbling down in my head mixed with the oh so fitting vision I was looking up at. It was beautiful.

You know that feeling where the whole world is spinning around you and you're kind of in the eye of the storm? At a stand still? That's where I was. Or, maybe everything around me was still and I was the one spinning. It was calm.

All I know is my heart was radiating like it hadn't in months and I genuinely felt beautiful as I hurt for everything we would never be. I saw a beauty in myself and in the connection we had... I felt it on his side to. Do y'all think that's possible? When you've loved someone to be able to "feel" each other? It's also very possible I'm insane or something.

My heart is warm and hurting right now and I was close to positive I had a point to make when I started typing this. It's 1:30 am on Christmas Eve.

8/17/2014

Her name was Joy Jenny Jeffers,

known only really as Jenny.

I loved her for the way she’d sometimes

sit up in bed at four twenty three am,
the linen bunched all around her naked
 knees,


and she’d proudly and dully proclaim
to her imaginary friend
perched on the wall:

“Frankly, Frankie,
I don’t 
think this 
relationship

is going

anywhere”

I’d laugh, call her a doll

“Oh Joy Jenny Jeffers,
I love you too much,”

with a slap, call me Jenny, 

she’d plop back in the bed.

(This all happened
in the dark,
don't you remember..?)


I loved her for the way she would 
put wildflower honey
in her black coffee

and one time, hungover, she poured in
canola oil,

which she drank anyways,
Which would prompt a swift

“Oh Joy Jenny Jeffers,
I love you too much,”

as i drank my St. John’s tea

laced with Bacardi.

I loved her for the way she hated 
animals and music,

for the way she burned off a strand of
hair when curling it,

for the way she blinked when an eyelash brushed up against her iris.

I loved her for the way she said Frankly, Frankie, and I loved her the very same

when she started preforming old tricks
in front of new patrons,
when Frankly Frankie became

Frankly Johnnie or Frankly Helen,

I loved her all the same,

And in this i realised i didn’t love Joy Jenny Jeffers,

but I loved the way a certain woman 
got an eyelash out of her way,

fixed her earrings when they caught,
comforted sickly children halfheartedly,


and I loved the way a woman went about waking up at exactly four twenty three am every night or morning to say
"Frankly,
Frankie,

I don’t think this relationship

is going

anywhere.”

With the linen
all around
her knees.

They're out there on the streets
I can see them as I crack my blinds
They're passing by so silently
I'm to freaked to go outside

I know that if they catch me
They'll put me in an imaginary box
And keep me there till midday
Where they'll have my brains for lunch

Or tie me up with an imaginary rope
To an imaginary tree
And force me to watch them preform a rendition of Thriller
Like a bad episode of Glee

Yes, those Zombie Mimes are freakzoides
Long before they became the preforming dead
I've been uncomfortable in their presence
Could it be because of something they once said

Wait...now here they go
Pretending to walk against the wind
Will I ever be able to step outside
Will this silent madness ever end

I don't know where they contracted the zombie virus
Or even how this all went down
I only hope and pray it doesn't infect
Any of the Circus Clowns

Well son...

It all began in Fairyland
In the lab of the mystical toads
As trash throughout the land had gotten way out of hand
Along side of the pixie dust roads

The system they had wasn't working
Leaving empty all the garbage cans
And everyone of the Fairies backs were hurting
Bending over picking all of the trash

In an off the wall guess Teddy Toad thought of this
Something the Fairies all liked
A horn on a horse as a matter of course
Then the trash men could go along for the ride

So they took a horse and Duct taped a horn
Cause we all know Duct tape works wonders
But it never fit right in its slip and its slide
In the taping of over and under

Science soon prevailed in the cell from the horn of a cow
Mixing it up with one from a horse
Purely by accident they just happened to chance
Upon what is now the Unicorn

Who's very first job was giving litter a nod
In helping to keep the streets clean
But before too long the Unicorn evolved
In the preforming of different activities

From the up turn of nose in sneezing rainbows
In the prettiest of sunny weather
To giving kids rides as they grew wings to fly
The ones mixed with birds of a feather

Or the burping of clouds when they opened their mouths
That only know how to rain Skittles
That sometimes floods the streets in candy knee deep
Running sugar sweet straight down the middle

So if you're ever confused on how Unicorns were first used
Or had any doubt to how they came about
You can set your mind at ease
You now know they were created because Fairies all hated
Bending over picking trash off the streets

Goodnight son, sweet dreams...

Once I was told to look within my chest
Imagine Romance, allowing it to stand
Respire life, preforming it at best
To paint it with a gentle hand
Twas from longing love's command
Of this which I best understand

I’m from vegetable gardens, pink lemonade and board games.

From tall, golden sunflowers blooming in the summer to soaked mittens resting on the radiator in the winter.

I’m from twinkling white lights arranged beautifully in the bushes surrounding the pool and from thinking that the Canada day fireworks were so incredibly magical.

I’m from my teddy bears and dolls cluttering the basement floor to fresh cut peonies sitting on the kitchen counter and filling the house with their familiar scent.

I’m from ‘elbows off the table’ and soft boiled eggs in little painted egg cups.

I’m from wondering what the hundreds of old books on the bookshelf could possibly be about and from watching Shirley Temple movies over and over again until I could recite nearly every word.

I’m from choreographing dances to classical music and preforming them in the backyard.

I’m from ‘goodnight’ and forced bedtime prayers.

I’m from Gudrun and John better known as Nanny and Poppy.

I painted a portrait for my mother to show how deep and clever her words with courage throughout the years help influence the realistic platform I aimed my talents & dreams towards. Seeing the bigger picture decoding Da vinci in a poetic format at a young age steady preforming my purpouse using a composition through metephors as my stage. Standing strong without a doubt of the future yet to be...

Interrupted by my grandson with a telescope.
I think…
that never happened to many old men,
I feel,
special, y'know, like
I am and something like
this happened only because
I exist as this child imagines I am.
I am useless, unless I am
yet, after all,
Good at games grand father who knows stars
by name
and planets on planes intersecting our own.

_ I _ settle to see less sense intended than taken
as my reaction
results in a ripple
through time, to this place you imagine exists
as you read random lines
preforming perceptual preceptorial exploits
making peace
past all the battlefields imagined,
as legends go, we know the tropes,
all were digitized, the battles being refought result
in the same ever afters observers imagine.
No sane child can imagine studying war
no more moral interpretation
art implication
prepostper-full three decade dose of teleostic vision,
and unforgettable jingles
on the radio.
---
hit the road, Jack, jack of the lantern, lighter of lamps,
watcher in the night,
we have no need of warning,

we have drowned.

Goodnight Irene, goodnight
I'll see you in my dreams
------- farawayfaraway faraway
Home
Sometimes I live in the country
Sometimes I live in town
Sometimes I have a great notion
To jump into the river and drown

see ya'round' sunshine.

Rappin like I'm strappin. Cause every time I rhyme it's a crime of passion. Directing these words to take action, splitting these ******* into fractions. Killing wack rappers for your satisfaction.
Bring back that boom bap for a new vibration. Cause we need to move this nation that slowing to stagnation. These new spitters have no inspiration. No words for the kids that spectating, they raise kids into self hating, unappreciating the knowledge awaiting.
You see.
My reason for breathing is to keep you believing in the dreaming worth seeing.
Rhyming to those who need some healing. The children need to know its ok to have feelings.
There's a king or queen in these young beings.
But you teach em to struggle from the beginning.
But I preach the hustles O.G. meaning.
Teach em your mental muscle out weighs and out pays dope dealing.
That when you die the last thing you take is your with your *** is cash and bling bling.
Teach these kids to run with no legs... Lil tink tink.  So dont close your eyes, life passes by in a half blink.
**** conforming I'm preforming to make them think.
This country is not weak we're just on the brink of finding that missing link to confirm the only belief... wich is love, and only our love should reign from above. One love is the riches of all lives, from saints to thugs and that's because...
 you matter, I matter, matter of fact we are all made of matter, and equality is still a missing factor. This country was built from immigrants, and it's insignificance has lead to neglence and ignorance. But our omnipresence could be start of our new independence, get out the past and rise up to the present. We have a presence that could change us from the accused to the defendants.

They're out there on the streets
I can see them as I crack my blinds
They're passing by so silently
I'm to freaked to go outside

I know that if they catch me
They'll put me in an imaginary box
And keep me there till midday
Where they'll have my brains for lunch

Or tie me up with an imaginary rope
To an imaginary tree
And force me to watch them preform a rendition of Thriller
Like a bad episode of Glee

Yes, those Zombie Mimes are freakzoides
Long before they became the preforming dead
I've been uncomfortable in their presence
Could it be because of something they once said

Wait...now here they go
Pretending to walk against the wind
Will I ever be able to step outside
Will this silent madness ever end

I don't know where they contracted the zombie virus
Or even how this all went down
I only hope and pray it doesn't infect
Any of the Circus Clowns

I don't understand why anyone would want to hear what they expect when they ask me what I want to do with my life.
I know what they want to hear.
"Go to college. Get a good job. Settle down. Have a family."
Why would I want to give that answer?
I would hate to draw a map and go a predetermined course.
I would hate to know what's coming.
Where is the adventure in that?
Humans created many of the problems that they seek solutions to.
What would I learn by preforming an experiment if I already know the outcome?
All I know is that I want to experience.
I want to fill myself with everything that I can, and I want to be.
(b.r.o.)

-
you relearn coming home

-

You find out how it tastes different
From when you were a little girl
(It’s far less rust tinged these days)

You name everything inside of you
anger or shame
So you never have to look to closely at the hurt
(It's mostly pretending you are something other than empty)

You relearn steady in chaos
you can still patch up
****** gaping holes with shaking hands
Lies leave your mouth faster
Than anyone has time to get the safety off

You relearn two faced
that one you never really let go of
it feels the same as it always did
Like a party trick you could never stop preforming
because it isn’t one
You know liar
The game is you are almost always
Telling a truth



-  What does learning to come home mean; why is it the first place you learn to run from

If you been rejected and toss around by others, then give it to Christ.
He understands what you are going through right at this moment.
He loves you, for you are one of his greatest creations please keep standing.
Do not give up on this life, he will give you the strength that you need.
To finish the journey that he has set before you to complete it.
For there are other people that may lose something if you quit.
They may not finish the journey as well if you are to give up on it.
Also you will miss the miracle that Christ is preforming for you to receive.
So keep on pushing through till Christ shows you that you have completed it.

preforming for a crowd
does not make you the hero you play
you are the reason
I find so much darkness in humanity
while you preach openly of blasphemous ignorance-
you’re sheltered in your own
the reason we perceive you as such a wonder
is not of your goodness
but of your bold ignorance in your ways
the reflection must show you
so what’s wrong with your eyes?

I am picture perfect
Within a broken frame
Cut myself numerous times on glass
Fixing my mirror so it'd last
Reflecting and image, set in Steel and gold
Shining, beautiful yet perplexedly cold

Turn ashes to fire
Life's a balancing act on wires
Preforming the same tricks
Over and over, top of my class
Glue glitter to a broken mask
Risk it all for victory, never lost
I'm on fire, I know, i've watch me burn
Chin up , shoulders back, big smile
facade checked ,double checked

I'm okay at everything
I grew up always drawing
My sister now does art as her working
I was never best at drawing
I'm okay at everything
I have always loved to sing
But people say I'm scared of preforming
Maybe I'm not cut out for singing
I'm okay at everything
Playing instruments was once my thing
But I can't ever remember the string
Oh guess I'm not made for playing
I'm okay at everything
I got into picture taking
But what am I really saying?
If I don't know am I faking?
I'm okay at everything
I'm not like a puppet on a string
I can still do my own thing
But I'm never best at anything

You Talk too much
"Check what I found!!"
Move way wayy back
"Don't Make A Sound"

You yell
You scream
"A lie
A scheme"

Get lost
Get away
Life's not white or black
Just grey

It will pass it shall
It is what it is

Calm down pal
It's alright just chill

Body temperature rising
Heat nd fire builds up
It's all synchronizing
Watch out heads up

U saw it coming
U knew it'll happen
Calm urself down
Abit more till u drow

Succumb to their wishes
Obey their demands
Dress up nd role over
Perform their commands
Be quiet and listen
Do u understand?
Act or fake it
Just shake the **** hand

Smile
Wave
Live in a cave
Away from all ppl
Do not be their slave

Ur not in a cage
Just stuck on a stage
Preforming the acts ur told
Ur not completely bold

Deliberately falling
Constantly stalling

Isolated indeed
Elsewhere attached
Somehow freed
Chick just hatched
Ignorant as ever
Pretending to be clever

Precaution advised
Lifetime ahead
Something revised
Yet u are dead

Ask for
Redemption
Receive no exemption

Satisfaction obscured
Resistance assured
Yap I'm *******

Growth all over
Malignant, benign?
Makes no difference
This life isn't mine

Concealing truthfulness
Overwhelmed by dreadfulness

Brightened past
Inspected expectedly
Nothing bright about it
Accepted rhetorically

Complaining all over  
Demanding closure
Contemplating scars
A world of cigars

Brilliant circumstances  
Or so they say
Thoroughly examined
Yet ****** me up day by day

Transparently seeking
Truth, its demanding
Reluctantly speaking
Truth, is outstanding

Strands and threads of hope
No it's just one, and mirrors
It's doubling, tripling nd more
Fake and false, an excuse for war

Confetti in a balloon
Released to the moon
Wishing for light to shine over
To find me that clover

A sack of ribbons
Dropping like a ****
Hitting the pavement
Like an overweight man's ***
Blown over with the wind
Flowing thru the street
There's a cool sound to that happening
What an awesome beat

I might sound trippy
I may seem cold
Do I even listen
To whatever I'm told

Go on
Move on
It's over
Or, almost over
Close enough tho
Ud be satisfied
Or so ud say
Who would know tho?
If it weren't for u
It won't show tho
That u knew


The beginning

Please excuse me if just for a moment
It’s been awhile since I felt like I might not cough out my ribcage
But what difference would it make really if I already feel unprotected
The feeling of vulnerability is nothing new but it’s never felt so prominent
Simply the thought that everyone else knows
That things aren’t as good as I intended to make them believe
But that’s no business of theirs anyway it’s not like they’re going to help
That’s why I’ve always buried it away but now it’s getting harder to keep down
One too many times I think I’ve slipped up and lit myself up with flashing lights
I am a liability a failure a malfunctioning existence looking for a way out
How am I expected to have anything to offer when I never asked to be here
Forced together and wound tight sent off before being factory tested
This doesn’t feel like delicate finesse or experienced craftsmanship
It feels like a doomed experiment
Any scientist would be condemned to death for my creation
But I’m here and I’m trying to rearrange all these wires to see if I can make anything out of myself
I know what I am and I’m sorry for most everything I’ve ever done
But preforming surgery on yourself is more difficult than it looks
~W.C.