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