I Feel Like I’m Eighty Years Old.

A Small Girl Became Increasingly Paralysed By Her Parents' Frequently Violent Rows. Sometimes She Would Spend Hours Standing Completely Still In The Toilet, Simply Because That Was Where She Happened To Be When The Fight Began. Finally, In Moments Of Calm, She Would Take Bottles Of Milk From The Fridge Or Doorstep And Leave Them In Places Where She May Later Become Trapped. Her Parents Were Unable To Understand Why They Found Bottles Of Sour Milk In Every Room In The House.

She's Talking About Herself In The Third Person Because The Idea Of Being Who She Is, Of Acknowledging That She Is Herself, Is More Than Her Pride Can Take.

I Am The Beast At The End Of The Rope.

I Crave White On White And Black, But My Thoughts Race In Glorious Technicolour, Prodding Me Awake, Whipping Away The Warm Blanket Of Invisibility Every Time It Sears To Smother My Mind In Nothing.

Embrace Beautiful Lies - The Chronic Insanity Of The Sane