So now, mostly nauseated.  Mostly unnerved.  The thing that occurs when you choose not to document – when you choose to accept the day as lost to time – is you don’t have the highest highs to recollect and revisit here on the page.

If I write it here, does  it mean I’m committing to a position? Because I can’t.

If the past six months haven’t elevated me above the fawning masses, then I guess I don’t know what to say.  I can take a lot of different sorts of pain, but I don’t know about this particular brand of poison.  This is no Iocane powder.  This is my kryptonite.

Instead, I write elsewhere.


I feel like I have to fight or I’ll be scraped off and forgotten when the peace of mind does arrive.  I


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