Oh, Of Course, I Always Feel Unconfident.

A Carnival In Daylight Is An Unfinished Beast, Anyway. Rain Makes It A Ghost. The Wheezing Music From The Empty, Motionless Rides In A Soggy, Rained-out Afternoon Midway Always Hit My Chest With A Sweet Ache. The Colored Dance Of Lights In The Seeping Air Flashed The Puddles In The Sawdust With An Oily Glamour.

Suddenly The Staggering Love Bursts Away From Me Like Milk From A Smashed Glass.

In The End I Would Always Pull Up With A Sense Of Glory, That Loving Is The Strong Side. It's Feeble To Be An Object. What's The Point Of Being Loved In Return, I'd Ask Myself.

The More Potent, Unasked Question Is How Society At Large Reacts To Eager, Voluntary Violence By Females, And To The Growing Evidence That Women Can Be Just As Aggressive As Men.

A True Freak Cannot Be Made. A True Freak Must Be Born.