I finally feel as if the night asked for some type of release. The extra added background noise that oscilates into rippling con caved waves that radiate when the musik feeds through my pulses and releases it’s a new found euphoric buzz that I’m just learning how to communicate with. It’s a strange phenomenon. I must have a sense of self before venturing off. However, I’m learning how to have more pride. May 31, 1:58. I’m still progressing. I’m sweating, waiting, waiting, waiting, I’m pending. But what happened to the hands of god I felt that one night in the field where a church lurks and I felt the ground quake below me, and this time I knew it to be real, because you were the only one around and when I looked in your eyes I cried and i felt more real than the grass that soaked my socks and collected dew. Morning cry out to me, louder than I can call back because sometimes I just want to be voiceless, stress myself until I am no longer because I wish to disappear, I wish to melt away, sift until only my bones are left and you are left with the daunting task of building me back up, my skeleton hanging on your wall.