It's when I can't write and escape myself, that I want to rip my head off and run screaming through the street with my balls in a fruit picker's pail.
Ūegar ég get ekki skrifađ eđa flúiđ sjálfan mig vil ég slíta af mér höfuđiđ og hlaupa æpandi um göturnar međ eistun í aldinkörfu.