sharpie part II

blah blah blah. ramblings of a freshly woken mind and don't think i don't know that you all think this makes no sense. it's not supposed to. the endless stumbling moments when no one will know what to do or how to do it. i wish this show were already over. my body feels feverish. who are they to comment on the ink either on or under my skin? who am i to feel ashamed of who i am? there is no one in that room any better than me, no one more important, who's thoughts are thought more valuably. why feel i must be good enough for them? i am much happier to be good enough for me. and even now my eyes water up with rage. i twist and stretch and yawn to shake the contempt in me. this will be a beautiful day.