I’m drinking more than I should, but not sure if it’s enough. I keep losing track of time but I’ve always struggled with time. I spend so much time trying to understand where I’m at, or where I’m at. I don’t know if I’m anchored at shore or lost at sea. No matter the place though, the time is always a blur. Not sure if I’m at the point of death or birth, the story bounces from one storyline to another and the coherence of the book is like it was dropped and all the pages fell loose into the wind. Sometimes it’s a different author, but weather I’m reading the story or writing it always vexes me.
Dreams bleeding into the waking consciousness, I find myself again questioning what I’m doing. I must be sane because I question it all the time. When you stop questioning you lose perspective. Who would have thought that what seemed as simple as: your born, you live, and then die, could cause such a Uber conscious idea of existence and it’s validity. I wake. I sleep. Is there a difference? I start to think that there is no difference other than how we perceive it. Are we awake or dreaming. Am I sane or some Asshole who took too many drugs at some point and fried my last few brain cells trying to make popcorn.
The time for wallowing in self pity passed a long time ago. I feel like an asshole trying to communicate emotions to a computer simulation. Still I sit here trying to create some connection to silicon and plastic. Maybe one day the engineer will see the glitch in the program. Until then I keep trying.
Snowy Owls House 