2014-11-11 - 6:56 p.m.

This space is for the usual things, all that is mundane, things like madness in mind's alleyways festering until at last it overflows into the mainstreets, this space is for discontent hovering over your head like toxic smog, for sounds ceaseless even during the hours of sleep, for car doors slammed, for gunshots in the night, this space is for city chaos that makes one unable to breathe, that wrests one from one's sleep. This space can overflow with words like blood from a wound, it can seep openly and without comment. No one can chime in here, for here is a void where only I can speak.