Vanilla and lime candle

I have highs that are too high, and lows that are too low. My  hopes swing to and fro, and my heart takes me places I shouldn't go. The candle in my room flickers to the electronic distortions of chaos and creation, the sound rushes from the speakers and fills my mind with wonder as I sit here tonight, typing my way through the images that form in parts of my brain I have no direct access to: there are parts that lead to other parts, and sometimes the doors between them are open, sometimes they're closed, sometimes I'm up and sometimes I'm down.

A naked display of the emotions that have grown from a barren existence. Small, weedy emotions that have fought against the odds to survive in the treacherous landscape, mutated species of emotion that survived because of their unusual nature and grew in spite of the lack of a place in the sun, of care and attention, of healthy nutrition. Broken paths of development and inadequate sentences. Words without consequence, after so many words with so many horrible consequences.

I can see the London Eye from my bedroom window, I look out across the city and I can see the wheel, and I want to be there in an instant. The wheel is being illuminated tonight, the colours are flashing along the rim, and I watch red turn to green, and the sky looks nice tonight. I was carried along by adrenaline all day and then dropped on my head, and I want to fly across the city and land on Waterloo Bridge, just like an alien. I couldn't eat a proper dinner and I feel too tired. The confusion tires me out and there is no respite, there is no escape, there is no warm place to rest my head, there is the only the sound that fills my room and the candle that flickers as the distortions rise and fall.