dear sometimes when we torch diary,
sometimes i get that itch and burn going on around the tips of my fingers and i know the cause. i hate to say it out loud because that would bring some certainty to it. in my heart i believe this could have all been prevented if i would have just washed my hands more. now, i am infected- infested- invaded- however you want to say it and i really cant do a whole bunch about it now- not on the surface- not on the level- not in the air- not on the plane- not yet anyway. so i scratch the itch. i cool the burn and i never ever torch you. i pity those who do and laugh at those who will ever long to. fold up like a chair, be sure and cut your hair, men who cross their legs are often seen as more intellectual. the next move is yours, secure the remaining whores, fuck it why wouldn't you run for senate?