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| Jan 5 2018 |
Normal, human, trying logic, seeking belief betrayed, battling doubt, sadness numbed, anger soup.
Got more than a couple lists. I look out the window, up at the sky. Time to work. On what? What's worthwhile adrift on the sea of words? Don't ask the why demon. The why demon slithers endlessly, there are no answers to the knowledge it grants, only more questions. That fruit is shit, for a long time now, eons ago, thousands of lifetimes before me and mercy only knows how many lives after this space-time. A speck on the globe. A flicker, the tiny bird, not the energy that warms my body's blood. My thoughts like incoherent fuzz, rumination grooves fragmented like glass diatoms in sand.
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