--I CAN’T STOP THE SUN FROM GOING DOWN
I think this is harder than I think. I think blue is an assassin, and red a plane crash just before the explosion. I think the way you’re looking at me says you don’t trust people with brown eyes or people whose bones are molten and indecisive. I think, every time you yawn, that hoot owl in your throat has a message for me, and it is bad news.
I think my twin may have died before me, caught in the half-pipe with his too-big feet and too-big cranium, and he’s very happy about that. I think I may have killed off everyone who needed it, except myself.
I think this chair has polio, that painting skin cancer, your tablet Ebola. I think you’re not even listening, but instead you’re having sandpaper sex inside your head but there’s too much friction and not enough lubrication.
I think the reason I turned out this way has more to do with the dinosaurs than Mom or Dad’s preferred methods of torture.
That’s okay. I don’t need the whole hour. Almost done.
I think the reason she got that restraining order had nothing to do with me and everything to do with (…) I think you should ask her instead of always asking me.
I think there’s a liar in every room of every house, even if it’s a horsefly.
I think the moon is moody and pretentious as hell.
I think this couch needs its training wheels back. For sure that hat rack needs its training bra.
I think cops are just dying to ruin someone’s day, someone’s life, why else would that have happened?
I think people have their reasons, but maybe I don’t know anything.