Neuron flash in fifty watts pinpointing to the streetlight limbo. Told me it was chemistry why i behave like this. Why i move in misdirected impulse and speak in scrambled clusters of white Noise. Traction is not a term of endearment. Death is an experiment best conducted face down. Vertigo may not include spinning, but it ought to. I am languid in the puddle, face full of concrete cellophane. Don't say a single word unless you speak with a drowning tongue. I am not listening. i am not focusing. My eyes have sunk and set and i am invincible. I'm water proof. someone said that heaven is just coincidental collision of Electrons. This is not the time for touching me. I am a conduit changing colors, frantic humming televisions, Conducting city spasms, shorting voltage like a fuse. The elevating vibrations of hysteria, amplified by the armor of the tarn. Flashing lights paint veins across the sky. And everyone along the roadside just wants to see a saint. The serenity of sirens, the allure of the femme fatale. Her defibrillator hands can't stop me now. I feel quite all right.