Angry letters written in bile. Waves of cacophonous nothings. The sophomoric behaviors of literal adults. I read-- in an undated article-- that the prefrontal cortex doesn't develop until the early thirties, these days. More lopsided shouting in the language of solipsism. A socio-behavioral Stroop Test. How pedestrian. Late at night, I research the cost of carving my own hobbithole. The labor needed for founding Melinarë. How long I would need to hold my breath to discover Atlantis. Drowning myself to sleep would be the goal. Finding an aquatic kingdom would is the consolation prize.
4:10 p.m. - 2020-11-11
Recent entries:
Merry Happiness - 2020-12-23
Sorry, Songbird - 2020-12-23
Worldly Dairyfarm - 2020-12-16
The Oxidization of Life - 2020-12-16
Playing with playthings - 2020-12-09
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