words of undescribable

i love the power it comes with.

it's like i'm now jumping a few good steps on the ladder, acquiring higher status and i can't afford to let myself annoyed at my neighbors' gossiping and laughing, being louder than a bunch of magpies when i want to write.

Even them emptying 2 bottles of perfume down the stairs, with like a few good hundred squirts of the sprayer, even this is so unimportant right now. Maybe I stink and this is a message. But do I? I can't stink, I showered this morning and did not sweat since. I am writing. I can still breathe. Fuck 'em. I am invincible.

I.MUST.WRITE.

This used to require so much more effort before.

i mean writing.

wait, i meant choosing my emotions as if they're bottles of champagne on a shelf.

in fact, i meant both.

i must have acquired superpowers.

Vasile was right, this is how I get out of slavery. It's all me, it has always been me and i actually start to scratch the surface of what all this involves. I just burst out of a shell of insecurity and opinions and i don't give a shit about petty things around me anymore.

i must cherish this. i must change the way i earn my food now. i must find a way to support myself while this godlike feeling is still around. or i must learn how to train and maintain it and keep this job, as it could serve as more raw materials for what i'm about to do.

i have the supernatural book. i know where the info is waiting for me.

there is enough time. take it. just take it. polish everything until it really shines, so that when appraised and auctioned, jackpot baby.

i feel like i want to share my proggress with people, but i also feel like this is one of those things that take some of my powers away. this must be conserved, hidden carefully by anyone before it's complete and ready to shine and make me fucking rich. i don't care about fame, in fact it would be really wise not to become a public figure. yeah good luck with that. you know they'll love you and they'll want more of you.

wait, what? who the fuck was that?

yo

why did i formulate this last sentence in the second person without even realising it until i proofread ?

hehehe

i'm sure we'll get to know each other, whoever you are. i just noticed you spoke before, advising me to take my time, which i will. thank you. i am not insane. i got this. this was not a monologue. i am not insane. lucid. window. loud neighbors. strong perfume scent. cervical spine pain from awkward laptop typing position. back in the room, everything will be ok -- lofi house mix