The words are tilted ta-**** because, well, maybe that all comes from a twisted mind. And by twisted, I do mean on an actual diagnosed level. So, yeah, a lot of it won’t make sense or will track back on itself again and again. A lot of sentences that could’ve been structured to make proper, 1st-hand sense, and in fact still could be restructured to do just that thing. But, then, there’s the part of me that kinda wants to leave it that nasty old back-to-front way, to, let’s say, represent the OCD and its utter Upside-down-nesS in its own right. So, yeah, in parts it makes little first-hand sense unless read a fair few bloody times, but that’s also purposefully, I really do think so. The part where you could maybe even end-up lending that particular piece of scribbles to a theatrical narration by someone in a mental health hospital… on a stage. You kinda gotta be high-aimed as-hell when you’re so inexplicably devoted to… a craft? Meet odd with, ahem… oDDeR, EVEN! It’s all covered and all the way through, from one to… **** knows how many poem-pieces there are at this stage in proceedings, but it’s totally been, and still is, something to keep an OCD mind focused to the last, even when the focus is falling into OCD-land. So… yeah… it’s all exactly what makes it all worth it, ‘cos I sure-as-shit wouldn’t have that back-catalogue of writing, whatever that even is supposed to mean, if I hadn’t have been a guy searching for some… balance with words in my own mind anyhow, which I know that I always wanted to do anyway, way back before everything went a little… lopsided. That I always wanted to write just one piece of scribbles that literally seven billion people couldn’t but like. Or, to round it down a little, to create something that someone who truly hates to read will end-up loving. I.e. me. I’m getting there… I think