A litany of names marches across my knuckles. Mostly nameless and often faceless. I watch them separate into divided factions that idly war one another.
They fight an unknown battle on unfamiliar terrain. Disappointment predictably wins every scuffle and skirmish against Inspiration. Finite losses mount on neither side. I can envision either group as victorious if I squint and believe hard enough.
Scrutiny of my hands reveals a disconnect between my brain and my fingers. I need to reach outward and grasp someone-- anyone-- to get a hold of myself.
11:50 p.m. - 2014-10-02
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