Some mindset this is.
Predisposition perhaps?
Maybe, maybe not.
The minds.
I can't breathe.
my chest is filled with twenty gallons of concrete.
my writing doesn't have a pointe
but nor does it have an audience
that latches its tenticles
into into into
my poor little mind.
all of these concepts,ideas,thoughts.
running around
A free mind that's a mess,is better than a chemically altered state of being.
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