reflections of a twentyteen incongruent

I never know how to talk about my personal guiding whims without coming off as a psychopath, let a lone delusional or arrogant or befuddled with some stenchy pompousicity that gets eyes to roll me off the stage.

With that discretion, I first want to take note to my eurekas, because they are very reassuring, existentially.
Even if its a little contrarian to the thuds and sways of energies sputtering off speakers, twitches of crotch and all the other seething charms of the night, there is something glamorous to sit on a sofa tangent of a strobe light and to hear some vision so thorough--some idea succinctly triumphant--but no it is not merely an 'idea' some floating damsel wasting in a tower of mind: a realization, yes--fervent and romantic.