(This page uses Cascading Style Sheets for formatting. If you can read this, it means that your browser doesn't support CSS. I plan on making a text-only version of the page, but I haven't yet.)
Written between October and November 2001.
the second time I lost my mind was in the smallest room I've ever seen
to this day, I swear
I sat in wooden chairs and typed at a computer with the smallest screen
and I was hardly there
I know you won't believe it now, but at the time I couldn't eat or sleep
just trapped inside myself
sometimes I try to think of how I could have gotten in a state like that
and couldn't ask for help
I'm like a firefly, stuck in the smallest mason jar
I'm like a starry sky, but half as bright and not so far
I'm like an elephant, it's not too likely I'll forget, so
please promise me that I'll be safe
the seventh time I lost my mind was in the biggest room I've ever seen
to this day, I swear
I'm sure you know how much I tried to see things your way, but you didn't seem
to really want me there
the overwhelming reasons why I didn't ever want to say goodbye
please try to understand
and when you told me I was blind, I blew a tiny fuse and closed my eyes
and cried into my hands
I'm like a narcissist who can't admit that I was wrong
I'm like an analyst who'll think about this way too long
I'm like a pacifist and couldn't ever use my fists, so
let's buy a car and drive away
let's buy a plane and fly away