Used my last day of furlough on Wednesday. First real day off where I had absolutely no responsibility that would cause me any stress. Golly, I had forgotten what it's like to be off work and my only company are Spot and Lilah. Did I mention the weather was wonderfully cold, damp and gray on Wednesday?
It was.
Besides weekends haven't been feeling like weekends as of late. My routine of internet, TF2, sleep, eating, drinking, sleep, more TF2 and quality time with the Lee is a routine rather than a source of relaxation.
Since I've received the bag which will be my bug-out bag I'm inclined to head west and live on my own for three days and see how the bug-out bag sustains me had it really been the end of the world as we know it. Which begs the question did the B-52s have raucous orgies with REM? Also many laughs when considering the fact that I'd do this in summertime rather than late autumn or winter. Way to softball the apocalypse, fatty.
Have you seen my new backpack? It kicks ass. It's huge. Still have to get a respectable knife, good boots, food, a mess kit, foul weather gear, rope and MREs (enjoy your constipation) in addition to water purification tablets to prevent delicious giardia.
Every day people die in one shape or form. Fortunately, for the majority of humanity, we do not perceive these terminations. I wonder if I am kindasorta perceiving them or if it's just my anxiety which raises the specter of some meth-head crashing her car into the house and destroying the basement while greasing its axle with human bean juice hurm must investigate further but good like this Dreiberg.
It's not overwhelming but it's always at the back of my head so I'm not able to fucking relax.
Since the event isn't being actively observed by the demiurge then that waveform doesn't collapse and I maintain the illusion of existence.
Life is exhausting when it's spent waiting for the other shoe to drop. Wondering when someone who declared a far-reaching promise will pull the rug out from under me. Heck it's even worse when I'm actively working against myself. Meanwhile the silver lining is not really caring what people outside of Leah, Lilah and Spot think of me as a human being. Sometimes I run a phantom hand over that part of my ειδωλον feeling how smooth it is and what might've been there before like so many tongues and so many gaping tooth sockets.
Here's hoping there isn't any phantom pain anytime soon because I'm going to be feeling awful strange trying to scratch my nose to bring relief to what used to be my left foot.
The only person, other than myself, I can count on like an abacus.
