I don’t really sleep these days.
And expression feels difficult.
All this time. All these words that mean so little – Now that I am here and you are not.
Waiting around is just code for letting life and opportunity slip by.
Maybe that was always the goal.
It feels good being in my house today – decadent. Despite the fact that some huge chunk of my subconscious (and psychosis) wants me out of here. Those parts of me aren’t throwing up a credible alternative at this point.