Dead lungs filled heavy with the lead of interpersonal mechanics. Socially-prescribed meetings on the heels of bad decisions. Carefully chosen words that mean more than one thing. Holding frame against feelings. Punctuated exchanges, with only one party seeing the subtext. The creeping and inexorable exhaustion of being too smart for one's own good. A reboot might be the best play. If it wasn't disguised as a midlife crisis.
10:39 a.m. - 2018-10-29
Recent entries:
Sticky Wicket - 2018-11-12
Mandated Reunions - 2018-11-05
One Hundred Thousand Taps - 2018-11-05
Falling Salmon - 2018-10-29
Nearly Midnight Musing - 2018-10-29
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