star.star... teach me how to shine. teach me so I know whats going on in your mind.
There is no life. I know. To compare with pure imagination.

And the Star. Stars, perfectionists star people. They have fallen. But no one has seen them. Not a body, Except their own mirrors. Mirrors help them to see. But their minds still know their loneliness. They toss and turn forever. Until they find. The right...star. Stars teach them how to shine. And perfect their minds.

Tonight is a Friday. I realize this fact, Friday the 13th I might add, after assembling myself about my house. The entire day. There is something about staying in the sheltered home on a Friday. The melancholy level flies. Trivial though. I rant too much? Maybe I should question further acquaintances about that matter. Later. Yes, death sounded interesting tonight.

I have a group of citizens in my head. Eight, to be exact. That our in my cranium device. Head. And they wouldn’t leave. A year it’s been. I’ve told some friends. I don’t want the attention turned towards me. I think about that film and that book. If I shoot my head open…do they leave?

I don't understand when all the people talk and talk forever. Let it. Fall.