Sweet sleep how I yearn for the

I am transfixed by my never shutting third eye mind. Oh how it taunts me when I yearn for the peace of sleep. It looks onward ever fixating on things too complex for me to just brush off, thus forced to work out the problem to earn my prized peace and rest where my mind will continue to wonder as it does. Such a mischievous and masochistic thing it is. The pain brought on by not only the lack of sleep but the imagery and unsolvable problems it stumbles upon in the dark crevasse of its dark demented domain. Complex and dense with trap doors and stairways to nowhere. I don't dare wonder my mind with out a plan for fear of never returning. The best I can do is let my mind work itself out and hope I am allowed rest before the sun rises.

Art aspects

Will She, that's struggling with schizophrenia and her art, which she see's as the only way into her heart, ever be herd or understood by thous deemed by society as normal that has condemned her or us or me or we as okay to be free?

Instead of joked about or looked at in a different aspect like some dumb bloke.

There IS power and beauty behind my art. If you can't see it you are simply blind to genius, abstract, innovative, dreams.

Passerby's determination of me when I am dressed up in this dressed down dreadful dairy state of stupidity...

All dressed up like a stupid little slut!

Look at her luscious red lips, just begging to be bit and kissed.

She wears her clothes taut so you know how she likes to be grabbed and clutched.

Lest we forget that string of cheap pearls around her neck, says she likes when you choke her until her whore blue eyes water.

And those tights so tight across that ass and what an ass it is. Perfect to slap and spank and kiss and bite and fuck.

Oh that dirty little cunt!

Strut my way in your high heels of coquette confidence, so I can give you what you are showing everyone you obviously want.