My mind is all but ruffling though waste. It is clear like a scratch in the middle of a diamond. I have become content. This isn't the way to go. Everyone is in want of being content, but not I. I want chaos. Right now, there is nothing in the air. It's the phase in nature, the whole world, right before spring. It's when the world opens its eyes, yawns and just lies there in space thinking of what it had just dreamed. The world is now in interlude. Usually, like the others, I would be happy with this interruption, but when you are addicted to constant movement and randomness, it's way too laggard. I guess I will have to spin for the world.

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