sometimes I worry about the way my brain works. But in the twenty minutes I have before opera, I would like to offer the words and phrases that have been with me today.

Alto.

Afraid of heights.

For the life of me...

And like the rains in the fields of fantastic....

When.

If for all the reasons I remember.

The left-side hippocampus of a sexually abused child is 12% smaller than that of a non-abused child.

Chemical and physical modifications.

Piercings allow me to feel as though there is something pretty on body because nothing else is.

What is it with gay men's obsession with women?

Childhood, reclaimed.

Stamping feet of doom.

You sing while you pee?

Movies, like the mean something...or something...

Tumor.

Prospective drug addict.

X-actos and cotton. And some tape too.

Dance, little monkies, dance.

Stop eating.

A fat kid will never tell you that you're attractive.

Self-conciousness and depreciative-ness obviously lead to the door of self-fulfilling prophecy. But who cares.

The rain wouldn't fall if it weren't for the sun smiling all the damn time.

And that my friends is it. One of these days I'll be diagnosed with schizophrenia and the'll lock me up. But until then, I have a journal.

Love,

Me