the TWENTY EIGHTH of JUNE, TWO THOUSAND and TWENTY ONE.

endlessly fatigued. i wish i could spend all day rotting in my bed, drifting in and out of sleep.
it makes me feel less real, which is kind of a very good thing, sinking into my delusions ruins me,
but always makes me feel comforted, dissolved. dissected, my mind lies elsewhere, my soul dimensions away.
i can't seem to connect the disjointedness of daily life and responsibilty - for it doesn't feel i am here
at all. it's gravitational, the way i resist the clutch of this universe and pull towards eternity.

take me back!