because you'd rather read a cartoon.

a fixation: we all need it. whether it's an entangled needle that gets you so high, you lose all sense of sensibility in life, yet you still find h(d)ope in that little dark black candle you call your cloud.(one that can possibly give you a drip of water because your tongue is so parched you can barely breathe.) or maybe it's that one significant human being that makes you hum over and over, 'nothing's gonna chaaaaange my world...,' as you enfold yourself into a tiny envelope, because yes you can fit, and then stamp it so silently you aimlessly forget to write a return address. go ahead...you can never fold this letter in half more than seven times.

love,

fiona apple.

or maybe it's just you. maybe you're your own favorite mistake, the way you let your grace rapture you. it's a dirty game...you will always be your own shadow boxer. (so wrap your fists tight because you never know when you're going to make your own move.)