bedtime
At 6 i stopped reading bedtime stories.
At 16 i started writing them.
At 26 all i wanted was to sleep.
At 16 i started writing them.
At 26 all i wanted was to sleep.
not yet... done
there was no answer yet, he fiddled with broken tools and assesed his options. there was no point doing anything but what he was doing. the filters in his head where obliterated with disgust and disdain, proving everything was just a moment and everything is mostly space. just shut your eyes, just breathe, count to something and voila. the tank headspace for drama and chaos is constantly and speedily topped, which made sleeping naps the only way for brain to stay functioning, deleting data overflow for a clearer next disaster to happen. the voices inside are very kindly appointed to the best tasks in years. taking in solitude as a wise budhist monk, with some drugs added through different but similar mechanisms. injustice best served cold open hearted surgey procedure in mind flat.
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