6 1/2 hours of nausea.
I’ve got more than a little Captain in me
and he’s ready to come out.

I’m gonna be real and honest.
I wrote rap when I was like, twelve.
It was pretty legit.

It’s like I spend countless minutes dizzy, nauseous, feeling all blood and color drain from my lips. I hate it happening in the shower. Panting for cool air, trembling and resting on my knees in fiery water. Then, I pull it together and hurry through the rest. But, I’ve no appetite, only the desire to desire one.

Barry: How was the (points down; signifies vagina)?

Matt: Like an otter's pocket.

God damn.
I really wish somebody would take interest like that in me.

And all of a sudden I’m depressed as hell today.
Nothing even happened, except that I woke up.
So all I did was sleep.

I feel like I would enjoy ripping out my labret ring right now.