thick and dark and heavy a deamon

oh boo hicket why wont this damn thing post pocx i hat et our cactus blooms in the kitcehn above the sink. it blooms and it blooms but no on recognizes it like my other would. i read i read and i read spat plath plath and she eludes me continuously lik eevryouthing else, a ghost inhabits me like a spitrit i feel mysel omcing out of the orignially inspires place why wont ou grow up grow grow up grow gorw up you play on all of my fears have TO REMEBER THE ONLY want way to be happy is to DELUDE YOURSLEF> how to live with this?