Minions, I'm dancing around the fringes of sanity.All days are vacant, but some are so empty they become vacuum pulling me in. On days like this, I walk by nail polish remover bottles and yearn to wander the burning rivers of drinking them, type on my keyboard and imagine the short storm of smashing it against the glass of the displays, climb a ladder to reach high shelves and imagine the freedom compacted in a moment of falling, look at my screen and just yearn to the effortless distraction of hitting my head against it so hard I would maybe finally lose consciousness, don the masks for people and fantasize the deceiving power of hurting them.... and then I'm asked of how I am. On days like this, it nearly breaks my mind creating the black hole needed to suck all the yearning for extreme in, then brace every cell in place and squeeze out an "I'm bored" or an "I'm good" or a "Same old, same old." I self devour.
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