Why I stole a car

Why I stole a car.

I needed the shortest point between A snd Z, he Mercedes bridging that gap. Aparently to write and entering a prision alows that without hinderance. A time of perpetual thought. Every moment in your head examined. Your thoughts processed to exhaustion. Every rabbit hole a plumeting debth to every instance. As you examin the smallest instance of thought. My thoughts, scary even to myself. The perspective of my insanity very real. As multipul versions of myself play out every day. An uncertanty of who I realy am. A redefining of my structure as I venture down every shady path available. Every hidden oprotunity explored. The thoughts of my future exciting, exhilerating. No limita period. The life i was given was mine. Mine to define. Mine to set the limits. My boundries a bit broader than most. My exceptance of the ever changing gray area known, not hidden. I have limits women and children top my chart. I Will break things to corect someone wronged. That doesnt mean I want to hurt people. I mean I except the path there on, nomater where that may lead. Good bad no indiferance.

I was teaching someone the other day how to pick a lock. In return he taught me, unproven to myself, a new tecknike. He explained that if you take the sulfer from match hwads pack them ino the port of a lock, filling it completely with the sulfer from multipul match heads. Then strike a match. Then touch it to the tightly packed key port. The small ignition will blow the lock internal pins, poping the lock. Un theory it sounds, sound. But he asures me and he should know locked here beside me