cram.

life has no meaning anymore. i'm drained out by too many things whirling around my head and scuttling at my feet, tangled round my neck and pulling me along, singularly everywhere.
okay i'm not depressed or demented. just tired. went for blokes just now, have been told that i'm living on borrowed time. more so now than ever, i have a higher responsibility, an advanced plane of standards to live up to, another judge other than myself and the world's eyes. it's all a stage. have realised how many f-words mean fake. fake, for one. then there's farce, facade, front, factitious, feign, then off a tangent into the realm of forge, fraud, fallacy. and by then im swarmed by the effervescing torrent of falsehood. f for felicia.
i am losing it. but i was nv in control of 'it'. God's supposed to be, see, another case of flawed conception. am upset with the systems. the unquestioning methodical procedure of obedience. like a thread wheel loomed out by a sewing machine, stitch by stitch, painful prick, travelling so far, long and hard, and arriving once again, at the end of the tedious prickly trail, at the spot where the first stitch begun.
that kind of meaningless.
dusted stonewalks attest to centuries of sand, wind-blown in excited discovery, finally curdling and hardening, in disparaging acceptance of mindless spirals, into rock. -the hard truth.

.fallible