I have no idea what this is.

I don't know exatly everything. Or everything exactly. I don't why tortured souls malke me hurt and heal and love. And I don't know why it takes so long for me to make myself realize when I've started ti fall. Sometimes I do0n't even realize I am falling untill I hit the bottom, or the mud covers my face.

When I was little, my back was eterinally ichy. It was like one da I had just made myself believe that every single hair on my back, small as they were at such a youngage were really hundreds of fire ants begging to be scrapped off. I don't know why that is. I don't think it's one of those things that I really want to know, know or ever after.

Sometimes it felt to me, when I was growing up, that if people could get anymore mean to each other, to people like me that are jst good targets for such things, then maybe someone would swoop down and srop it all. But then people did get even more mean, and there was no Superman or God to swoop down.

I think I always did know, that I was strange, t's not one of those things you don't know I guess. You don't wake one morning and realize it, you just know. You don't wake up one moring and not reliaze it because it's been there all along. Strange. It tends to sair down on people like me.

I know things, but I don't know all things. I don't know all things, but I do know somethings. Sometimes I can't tell in my head, what are memories and what are shartered bits of dream lying on the floor and walls of my head. Like that one painting of a room, by Van Gogh. Van Gogh was cool.

Love.

It's something that I want. That I know I want. But I don't know if I can get it. I don't even know that it's real. Maybe what people think they feel of love is just hormones and companionship. I know someone is going to read that and disagree. But I am starnge. Didn't I mentiona that?

I think I know things. And I also think I know nothing. I think I don't know things, but I also think I know everything. It's like the way somethings have a taste, even beforte they go nto your mouth. Or how things that do have a taste but don't have a smell, sometimes make you think of other things that do smalle like that taset.

They tell you things. The worlds does. The people in the world do. They tell you things t6hat you believe, and they tell you things you don't. But you should. Or you do and you shouldn't. Trusting someone is tricky isn't it? Not knowing things. Leads you into holes you didn't realize were there.