Probably not, but my head IS random. Like the sea blown by the pop of my bubble gum it flows to and froe. I am adrift on the inky distance that is my soul. Away across the foaming froth, logic gathers like pools of blood under the guillotine. It boils like thunder clouds, dark and angry. Yet is caged by insanity. Surrounded, it has no chance but lives forever boxed, forevr confined by it's own reprecussion.