I didn't want to leave my bed, and yet the plague of being responsible and going to work is relentless. There is a scent that lingers on me and that's nice.
So now what? This is where I would actually sit myself down and say that I think too much. It doesn't "mean" anything. It can't, because he won't let it and I know better. So there. Done. Simple. Gee, how easily the brain can compact the complexity of human emotion into a logic that we seldom actually follow. That is, what makes us human. Or is it what is left of a primitive animal that we have yet phase out? I'll never have the answer as there isn't one.
Too much to drink though... It is the impediment of alcohol that also drops guards to their knees. In this respect it would be nice to have the impediment at all times, but this dream must be laid to rest like all the others that I can't remember---in this way I can be at peace.
Hahahaha....Cardwell told me not to go home on my lunch break.
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The daily jazz of my mind, as pure & honest as possible; but know that words are themselves filters of the original thought/idea.
