If you only knew the sandstorm of thoughts going through my mind. Each grain of sand a different memory, thought, idea. The never ending whirlwind that has my mind dizzy. My thoughts hazy. No two people ever think the same thought at the same time. We are all too original. I think I'm too original. The abuse that I shove into the very back drawer of my mind. The flow of arms and legs up front. Choreography is what they call it. But really it's just a way to get you hooked. Right behind that is knowledge, the thing they always say is of the utmost importance but the pressure they put behind it makes it seem fake. It's too much effort for something so important. Why do you press so much? It'll come anyways so stop trying to force it. What's under it is the pressure to be perfect, but in reality what is perfect? What's on top of it all is the fantasy that everything will turn out alright but really, who even knows when or how that'll happen
