i drove around all day today, feeling for the world like my head needed some air. like the whole of life on earth was a distraction, insulated from my cognition by thick blankety mile after mile of stuffy disjointed reality.drove around all day, looking for a job. any job. the USCG thing can't come through until some small but old debts get paid, plus other bills are piling up and the plumbing work is over. driving, screaming to music because it was letting air out of the balloon through a pinhole. [need bigger hole, told self]thought about the fact that all the guns i own are large caliber, non-fcking-around type. good to help with ventilation. quite messy but, good german enginering, just like a volkswagen. but of course not. yet it is mind twistingly tearingly strange to have the urge to sleep so badly and at the same time have the strongest survival instinct of anyone i have ever met. makes a funny blend in the mind wanting like all the world to do something because your sickness DEMANDS it, but you can't because your reflexes are stronger. kind of like the fractal beauty mix of coffee and creamer cloudy high velocity over and under through triple knotted swirl.
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