I’ve put myself upon a shelf, now I feel like I’m stuck, Gathering the dust just like a vacuum, do I suck? Luck is running out just like an a let looze

Sit back and relax but don’t back down There’s a fight to be fought and you ought to pack sound. You should shout and bout, scream and swing I’ve passion, your experience doesn’t mean a thing I’ll move hands and moan, I’ll stand alone, and land upon this stance, my

I wonder of the bigger things Like why the robin sweetly sings Every morning chorus lead To get me out my lovely bed I open windows just to hear, Locate the robin far or near Then grab a rock or maybe bottle And give its beak a fucking throttle I

I’m on this earth, perched upon this bed. I’m looking outside because the downsides inside my head. I try to silence voices in my mind that say the choices are not mine instead. And focus on the here and now until the fear runs out and I’m fine or dead.

I walk along the path late I’m in a really bad state I had a lot of liquer My thoughts are getting thicker


A not so brief beginning to a guide to what I believe is possibly helping hints on improvising when performing stand up comedy- by Jake Pickford


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