Trapped

Days like these are a nightmare for me.
These are my bad days.
By most standards (including my own,) not really that bad at all.
Beneath the surface of my skin, creativity is boiling.
You can almost catch a whiff of rainbows,
as they attempt ooze out of my pores.
No resolution.
There are bars encasing my brain.
Unable to escape,
the rainbows fester in the turmoil that is my creativity.

Mhmm

Feet ache, eyes are dry, cravin some lovin, missing out on fun.

I want money. I want to make money doing something I enjoy. I want to make a lot of it. A LOT. I want lots LOTS of friends. I want to be constantly surrounded by color. I want the people in my life to know that I appreciate and adore them all. I want happiness, love, joy, harmony, health. I want a sexy body, I want to travel, I want Jack to smell good, I want to live forever in form or another, I want to know things, I want to see things, I want to help people, I want THE WORLD.