  have you ever been down to rosetta's kitchen late at night? i love the air, there. really warm and smells of herbs and things cooking. and all the people seem so surreal--like maybe they just came into existence when you walked in the door, with their odd hair and fascinating conversations already half-completed. a guy at the table over from us shared his fries . its hard to be on both sides of a wall. i have to side with him, my gut rebels against anything else, but my heart reaches out and bleeds for her because i know. i know the pain of being off inside but not quite realizing the need for change yet as the world slowly falls apart around you, and some of its your fault, but the one driving need is to feel... right. so tear me open pour me out there's things inside that scream and shout... ...and the dirt still stains me so wash me until i'm clean 
