overstimulated.

Too many roads lead no where. You indeed can not take two.
I reached a new limit... Of no limit. I do not desire any one true thing.

Instead I desire things of sorts that promise temporary relief
To a life that promises everlasting pain.
I can't write.. I can't create.
Boring is the taste of fruit.. Acrylic does not make my heart skip
Anymore.

All the clamor I forget.
All the lyrics ... Do not ease the tension
Of a sexual desire that shall never be filled.

I stay in tonight and paint my finger nails..
The smell of acetone puts me to sleep.