I feel so free the wind at my back there’s nothing as of this point I seem to lack. Some things are ok some things are not… as of right now I lost the thought. I’ll trace the image back to you, figure out this serial number that’s running through your mind. Over and over. Foreshadowing is my key, my tool, to unlock the secret of your thoughts. It’s hard to keep my eyes focused on the lines. I’m trying to write this faster so I don’t forget the ideas they just pop in an out of my soul. There’s trouble ahead. I feel her pain, she’s angry and so vain. Something’s wrong, she’s screaming for help, chained to a bed with handcuffs and a leather belt. Someone’s got to stop this its getting to my head. Tylenol’s not going to cut it I need something for a Migraine. I think I need a doctor, a nurse that I’ve subscribed. I need something fast while the pain arose inside. I cant imagine how she felt, right before she died. I hear her screams in my dreams at night to pleasureful to hide. This may come off as horror as terrifying as it seems, bipolar taking over, the essence of that dream. She’s scared she’s cold she’s nervous, as she leans into the light. God goes to grab her hand the devil appears in the darkness of night. when he grabs her ankle, then down to her feet. He gets this endless urge to tie them up with gorilla meat. No one understands. They think I’m insane but what when this happens again… Who’s going stop him? This mad man of fear. What shall we call him? My mother is so scared. She reads with flow, she stops with fright she doesn’t know what to think about how I dream at night.