I can't make it stop. My brain could back pedal and still smoke Usain Bolt. My brain races like Dale Earnhardt Jr. with no brakes. How does one slow one's brain down; or should it? Sometimes the demons bum rush my brain which eventually transcend through my arms to my knuckles. Typically it doesn't turn out well for anyone in my vicinity, or for me for that matter.
BUT... sometimes when the track meet starts the lanes are filled with social issues. It's a fun race to watch, I always have my money on the same horse. He has yet to win, but he'll get there eventually. Or maybe I have just reached the depths of the shoe box you have hidden at the bottom of your closet? Anyone one seen my mask lately?
Pieces and Creases
TBN
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It is What it Is
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