I am going somewhere with all these wild tangents …. the tempest needs to blow itself out awhile first before I decide where Electra’s path is meant to go 

I detest, loath, hate when people resent you for when they fuck up

 

“….she thought herself a Florence Nightingale of society ….”

she wrote this on the bus, on her way to her job and just as she was to publish the bus took a sharp turn and the letters had their own mind 

so often I have wished it was safe to say what I feel

 I do not need, do not want …. for anything ….this

 has been a format of recording through allegory and codes and I have been a prisoner in an internet cell as I have been in life as neither worlds ever touch and the world out there does not know me and one day I shall evaporate and no one will notice 

there she goes 

I am me I am mine 

 when the digital clock strikes 6:66, turn off the alarm

 just halfway to zero 0