Sometimes I stop breathing and I don't realize it. It wakes me up. I bleed in medically worrying ways. I have very little respect for human life. Strangers are my favorite people. My goals all end with a satisfying crunch. The right side of my face is scarred, and I can't remember why. Foreign organisms find it impossible to exist in my body. I breathe smoke. I can only be safely approached when under the influence of at least two fairly toxic substances. A nuclear holocaust would be fine, because I find ashes beautiful. I wake up with unexplained cuts on my fingers at least once a week. Due to a hereditary mutation, I am missing a molar and only grew three wisdom teeth. Weather permitting, sometimes I wear the same ratty black suit for days. Yes, I wash it. It hurts to breathe at least once a day. Come to think of it, that could be why I subconsciously stop from time to time. Every now and again my heart starts beating irregularly, then does a sort of lurch and kicks back into rhythm. These are growing pains. I'm going to live forever and sit on the fragments of a dead world.
I really like The Clash as well.
