Hell, I don't know, have the urge to type to type myself out of this . If i could i would drive t this moment out and away but there are something that I feel compelled to do before i go there are some things that just aren't seen. I want to create a huge ever-changing fractal like a weather station over the river in my garden the river and atmospheric pressures will challenge the nature of the fractal which is ever changing- morphing beautiful. I see colours how I put this into being,. Especially when the mirror tells me this is no place for reality a mask of ourselves and please if it could sing and make music this is what needs to occurs. It the halo of such a glory that we find our true selves. Such bitterness and darkness, a seepage into our very core. We look for the different and abject when we should see the beauty and belonging that we all need to feel. I know none will read this or care to understand this . Well I hear music , I will kick the ref in the knee that tries to tell me otherwise that : Jean Luc Picard: make it so. I only know my fingers want to fly .It sounds like this is amazing it is but underneath what I can't tell you you is that it is hurting a lot and my bpd within the bp is calling for annihilation