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Be at odds with life, for life is odd. I had an interesting revelation today about my mental state. I love to act in much more foolish ways than normal. Being the way I am today has been a long road to follow, but I've neglected to say goodbye to my former self, so he tends to drop by in my daily routines of forced depression and pain. He makes me smile. I didn't have a problem with anything back then. I hardly knew what true stress felt like then, which by no stretch of the imagination was a bad thing of course. People these days, I wonder if they know what they're missing by hiding that inner self from the people they love. My shrink told me not to let him out of the box I put him in when I feel suicidal, but I'm going to accidently forget what he said and endulge my psychotic sweet tooth. I just hope I don't get cavities and lose all of my friends. My loving friends. They mean the Sam (world) to me. That's the only reason I don't act that way. I've buried my past and apparently it's trying to rise from the dead. I feel like the real me when my inner child comes back, but I never want to imagine what would happen to me if I lost all of my friends. Well, I'd kill someone special (You know exactly who you are you incubus b*****d! Don't think you can get away with stealing my lunch when I'm not looking, you dirt bag. Ninjas always win. I don't know about your past and I don't really give a damn, but so help me Satan if you usurp my beautiful living reason to live, I will end you like a bad movie and make it look like suicide you apathetic psychopath! Doesn't it just look odd when you're so close it makes me want to blast you into a smoldering crater with a Sherman tank in broad daylight and stab my eyes out with a clarinet reed? To the untrained eye, you never left from anything and it makes me wonder. I'm no expert on relationships but what you do, in front of me for hell's sake, makes me feel uncomfortable, and that just has to be wrong somehow. If I was any other man and you were any other man, I would break your arms, twice. You're just lucky your past ate s**t and died, pal.). Just the fool's scene; just aint enough. When I clear things up with God, I will look pathetic for saying the stuff I need to get off my back; a great place for knifes, but the front's always better for broken hearts.