It’s not in me to be subtle unless it shapes the narrative. Stay quiet, chaotic, or something in the middle, loose and sharp and tangled. I don’t know anything more intrusive than what the truth is. Excuses to keep it all routine: the same TV, trying to feel less insane.
My best I guess, “no excuses and no regrets.” Keep no record of wrong or the money I spent. Always waking up feeling out of time. Learn to give it a rest. Let it ride.
All the way to Buffalo, you were asking about the future. I want to be a cog in a massive machine that breaks and makes the whole thing useless—I’ll break.
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