I have nothing of relevance to say.

So dig my head into the ground,
this muscle junkie tied me down.
And cut my limbs stuff them with air,
I won't, I can't I can't breathe here.
So lick the magazines with sweat,
and pour money into their blank heads.
Celebrities will die like you.
Fuck you. Fuck you. I hate your face.
Always. Can't you see? You'll die like me.
I'll never be you, that I know.
And I'll never be you, that I know. That I know.
And I'll never feel you I know.
I hate your face.

It's lovely and peaceful here.
You could almost imagine nothing else exists.
I go bikeriding like 5 times a day with everyone and we go yabbying and on the way back when I'm riding my bike looking at the trees and the sun and the clouds and the bales of hay I almost stop thinking and feel like I feel when I'm reading. When everything slows down and becomes simple and you're lost in yourself and what you're doing and everything feels special and manageable.
The world is nice right now.