MONOSACCHARIDE: The simple sugar.

I like inconsistent, incessant fits of obsession like these. It reminds me I’m still here. Ahhh depression, how does one describe thee. Where is that bloody rock? Why do I trip on my own ankles? Who are you, why are you so, where are you, who is she, how does she. Inspiration comes in loud bangs and deafening swooshes when you wish too hard for it. A premature gift before its time. Brought on by the unwilling santa. When it was quiet, the silence was stale. Now my head works but why does my voice feel so loud? Where did you buy your cup of tranquility? I am not rich but I shall starve for a month if it means I can afford one teaspoon of it.