i have birds in my stomach.
i'm freaked out and nervous and on the edge of my seat and i have birds in my stomach. i know that the phrase is butterflies in my stomach, but i'm much more nervous than that. these bastards must be gigantic, prehistoric birds, flapping their wings, throwing all my stomach acids around, making me work up a sweat just thinking about them.
ok, don't think about them. it's all under control. i'm gonna kick ass and take names. i'm gonna knock their socks off and steal their shoes.
the top of my head is hanging from a string. this keeps my spine below my head and my head above my shoulders. this makes me look taller. this makes me look confident. i have no idea who's holding the other end of the string, but they're doing a pretty good job. they put a spring in my step and they make me move like a dancer. not one of the post-modern performance art dancers that stands there looking stressed out, half naked and breathing heavy. i'm one of those dancers that leaps in the air and defies gravity. i can stay suspended by those air molecules for seconds, even minutes at a time.
then it occurs to me that i'm defying gravity because of all those damn birds.
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all words (c) filmfatale industries 2000