-Rant Entry- Poisonous Flowers

Depression. Sadness. Melancholy.

For moments I feel a good depression, it is good because I enjoy it, it calms me and makes me appreciate the people I love and the people I wouldn't usually stand. The next few moments I feel depression so terrible, as though I've been kicked all over. Sadness overwhelms me and I feel like crying, alone or with someone else, it doesn't matter, though having someone cry with me would make me cry harder, and I will feel good... Note to self, I must re-experience this and I will write it down... Who will cry hard with me? Anyone? Anyone at all?! I remember when I was going down south to visit a good friend, and on the right there was a building called Soul Factory. I have no idea what it is, and there is nothing around the building to give me clues on what it could be. Was it a jeans factory? Was it a place where they created the background people we never speak to? Why did I think of this? I don't know, but I'll leave it here.

I want to be in a brown painted room with the only source of light a yellow light shaped like a poisonous flower nearby a small round table I will sit at and I want to eat apples and drag a knife across my flesh, separating the flesh and let my blood escape to the outside to quickly die. I once read somewhere, "every injury is a small death". Funny that, I get many memories tossed into my face every time I get hurt, mentally or physically. I want to do this because I am sad, and these injuries feel good, and I always feel completely peaceful when I think of death while listening to classical music. I wonder what Beethoven fantasizes about when he thought of Death. I wonder what Bach thinks of when he plays the cello. He always looks so peaceful and absorbed in his music, is he thinking about dying in a field of poisonous flowers?

Sometimes I want to make really good pancakes, with ice cream on the top of some, add some fruits in a few, blueberries, strawberries, fried pineapples, and add a great cherry on top. And then I want to take the vacuum and suck up my work. I want to burn the Mona Lisa, I want to take historical monuments to an expensive hotel room and throw it all over the place, maybe hurt myself in the process with the shards of broken wood when it hits the ground and bounces back to me, oh, that would feel great!