Story

Once upon a time, a starfish went swimming. The swimming starfish was swimming.

Then, things happened.
Yay, things.

Fitting in

In a mood to express, but what? What to express? In a mood to express nothing, or something.

If I go to sleep, I will wake up eventually. Tomorrow is a day, and I have to do things tomorrow. I must be an idiot.

Does anything matter? Is anything real? Why are the fingernails so long on my right hand? It causes difficulty, typing. It is because I play guitar, of course.

But why.

I might as well be drunk.

Tuesday night

I have the greatest difficulty, or the most trouble, delineating, or exposing, or going through my every thought, or else something different entirely.

I have fallen for a woman, and then I have climbed out, and might now fall asleep. I really don't have much to say to anyone, even her. I don't have desire. I don't have anything. I have anything.

I get tired of myself, but I don't like anyone else any better.