There is a point in which I become unaware of my own bright and flammable attitude. There is a time in the evening when I cease to absorb any longer and just spill whatever internal mess I need to make. When it happens at work, it both confuses and amuses the clients. My general sweet and docile demeanor becomes wild and irrational. It comes all to quick when I’ve given so much of myself for so little. It comes when I’ve moved too quickly and have yet to take a moment to ask myself what is it I am seeking from this evening? My flames are nothing to be subtle about. They are massive waves that engulf those undeserving, fearful or rotten. I do not settle, I do not pacify. I am the one to bow to, to kiss my boot and worship my body. Until tomorrow when the doe-eyed angel returns.