first though=best thought

so loud its deafening. the roar of the city is disturbing. happens everytime i get here. i get used to it then i die in silence when i leave, and i want a happy fucking medium. so drunk i could scream, and everything looks like fireflies, the speakers boom a report, and i ignore them. it sickens me so i leave. speakers speak their tune and i ignore them. they sicken me. and i want to lose my mind for bit but theres no one to drive, no where to go, and it seems like everything is more drunk than i am. rifle hands type meaning, slow it down, slow it down all the teachers said. i told them first thought was best thought and thats all i want to write. thats all i need to write, thats all i'm going to write. leave me the fuck alone and let me write better than you ever will, because you spend hours editing, minutes of work, and its just overworked, overthought and killed. everyone has a drink and everyone feels a bit better. i still don't understand. i don't know if i want to.