Another fractured evening. Broken down into the twenty six minutes that remain.
Fucking addiction. God knows why I need it.
Ha! Imagine that? Jesus and his dad having a bunch of answers for little old me. Know what I think? Likely as a lottery win.
Maybe I shouldn’t be so cynical. Not really in my nature to be otherwise but I’m game. Only downside is that my cynicism is the glue that holds it all together. Perhaps I should just unbond and drift off into the ether, particle by particle…
Quick! Run away now! Someone’s getting all wordy and arty and full of shit. Take him away and stuff him from sight. Unhand me at once sir, there is work yet to be done! Vitally important work! Work so vital and vibrant and verisimilitudinous, spawning myriad copies of itself…
You should consider the fact that lack of sleep has but one outcome beyond the frayed linking of words.