Let’s go to bed.

The firecracker pops of scraping and whittling down to rust from a few rooms over keeps a smile on my face.  I like it when we bring things back to their original states.  

Coming round sometimes fills me with so much momentary anger that I barely recognize myself.  I treat myself to an out-of-body experience in an effort to try and trail, then apprehend, these feelings. Interrogate them until they’re dead tired and cannot go on any longer.  It’s like when you wonder, why can’t everything be for everybody?  Yes, it’s like that.  It’s because we’re greedy.  It takes stones to decide that you can let go.  My abilities are not yet that potent.  Harrowing when you remind yourself of time. 

The filing and rubbing away sounds so good to me.