Mind Vomit


Some people tell me that I have a way with words,

That I have a way with birds, or a way with nerds.

But whether I'm chirping or burping, whether I'm running or cunning, can I just ask you something?

I just want to ask you something, just one thing, just…

Why can't we look at the sun?

Why can't we look at the one, the only, the so very lonely sun? Have you ever felt lonely? I mean, as lonely as the sun? I mean,

I mean, I wish you would look up once in a while.

I wish you would look up and smile. I wish you would stand up for a while. I wish you would run for miles and never look back.

Never look back, never look astray, just keep running, running through the traffic-ridden city streets until you hit the highway and just keep running until you find a tree, until you find me, until you find a big rock to sit on with me.

We can sit there for 5 minutes or 5 days, 5 seconds or 5 hours, I wouldn't mind, I wouldn't mind at all, I love you.

I love you, I know that's weird, but you're so real to me, and I love you.

When I'm with you I want to fly, but only if you'll fly with me.

Only if you'll look up to see where we're going.

Only if you look at the sun.

We'll probably burn on our way up. Our lungs will probably explode when we hit the stratosphere and in the mesosphere our bodies will disintegrate into ashes, but you know what fuck it. Fuck it!

Why should we care?

We'd have lived a million lives in the span of one.

I wonder if that's what the sun feels like. If it lives a million lives in 7 minutes, if it even wants to live




Your mind should vomit more often. Very Good.

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