idk what this is

maybe this place can be my log

shall i be poetic? Or silly? 

maybe one day as my eyelids hug around the wet body of my eyes for the rest of eternity, the window to everything i now judge and understand will rot along with it.

what is the point of questioning? the world will always be the ruler of everything after all. our perspective is in our head. we are all mentally insane, albeit only in the eyes of one another, of course. 

my ear could torture me with unbearably mind-splitting torturous sounds at any moment, and yet it spares me with the pleasant melody of the world around me. 

i have so much anger. but towards what?