Sometimes I wish I could go insane. Fall off the edge, go cuckoo,  loco, off my trolley. Skip around the supermarket naked and holler at the moon, scratch and bite and spit and sing and smear their blood up the walls. And it wouldn’t be my fault.  And I wouldn’t care.  And nothing would matter. Just another fucking bat shit crazy girl loving her way through life. Instead, I sit here and stew, a prisoner to my sanity.