I feel this constant urge to be writing down all of my thoughts, but they come too fast, and they don’t make any sense outside of me. If I look too directly at any one thought, it vaporizes like a cloud. Sometimes things feel profound at birth but immediately annoying upon observation. I've learned to keep my funt thoughts to myself. They’re only fun to me. And now they can’t escape my brain without passing through a filter, without being analyzed, without being scoured clean. It’s like I have to go into a trance to channel them. The ghosts inside my head. A pool of boiling ghosts. (That’s a funny callback that no one in my life now would understand.)