But I think I should try if only so that those who write their fictionalized 'personal' accounts can begin to learn.
Feeling sick, but not, its a knot of over fullness that won't go away and won't produce real sickness which might be useful and cure the over fullness for a while.
The tension is in everything, every scratch outside, the barking of the dogs, inquisitiveness of the cats. Don't look its nothing, a mouse, bird, the wind. Don't look.
How many have there been now eight, more? Voyeurs here to satisfy their own obscene curiosity.
At least eight people have walked by this house just to see where I live, share the joke and agree among themselves that she's too weak to do anything and the neighbour conspirator tells her "Its all right". Right.
I should go to the doctor. Is the doctor trustworthy? In such a small town, you'd be silly to think so.
I used to like to write about this road, my walks, anything that struck me as interesting or curious. Now I don't. I want nothing to do with anything here. I feel no affection or liking for the people or the place, all I know is the harm they've done thinking it was funny, and maybe some so sick they thought I'd share their little joke.
Cameras watching me, people threatening me.
Stress is not something you can pick up and put down at will, its not something to be shaken off like rain on your shoulders. Its more like dandruff the more you shake the more there is and it never goes away.
Its them the dandruff in my life.
Feeling sick, but not, its a knot of over fullness that won't go away and won't produce real sickness which might be useful and cure the over fullness for a while.
The tension is in everything, every scratch outside, the barking of the dogs, inquisitiveness of the cats. Don't look its nothing, a mouse, bird, the wind. Don't look.
How many have there been now eight, more? Voyeurs here to satisfy their own obscene curiosity.
At least eight people have walked by this house just to see where I live, share the joke and agree among themselves that she's too weak to do anything and the neighbour conspirator tells her "Its all right". Right.
I should go to the doctor. Is the doctor trustworthy? In such a small town, you'd be silly to think so.
I used to like to write about this road, my walks, anything that struck me as interesting or curious. Now I don't. I want nothing to do with anything here. I feel no affection or liking for the people or the place, all I know is the harm they've done thinking it was funny, and maybe some so sick they thought I'd share their little joke.
Cameras watching me, people threatening me.
Stress is not something you can pick up and put down at will, its not something to be shaken off like rain on your shoulders. Its more like dandruff the more you shake the more there is and it never goes away.
Its them the dandruff in my life.
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