I am a thing committed to serving my blind term inside; an unusable equation, charming in its wrongness and simplicity; compulsion in the raw, trash bags, seams of the bedspread even with the mattress kind of thing; zealous swiper of the debit card; zealous mourner over the receipts; stuck in the belfry with a dime-sized hole to see out of; a voyeur of gender, binary and non; a citizen of nonexistent worlds and some that are real in between; a third-eye seeing bastard of a thing with a bit too much misdirected fire in its belly.

I am completely and utterly bats. At least, I must be to stay sane in such an insane place.


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