Flying Coyote

You observe, you perceive quickly. You tangle and twist your wit. Just a bit. But always in a sparing manner. And only for the sake of it - the quickened emotional offensive. A passionate defense.

"Fuck it. Just do it."

You're holding steadfast to your dreams. You enforce it, muttering quietly to yourself as you soak your mind in a million tiny inkblots, bent forward so you can read only the words.