I am so tired. “One foot in front of the other foot in front of the…”

So it goes. Emilie somesuch. Music.

Crying. Crying several times a day. Not that hard.

Advocating violence. What have I come to. I don’t fault myself. I just see the average sheeple pointing fingers and some randomly point at me. It’s a statistical distribution.

I guess I’m a scientist.

The brain.

You were expecting… something more normal? Yes? No?

Seems we’ve lost sight of the things we started with and the time we allotted to finish.

What have you.

I have some sort of problems and I don’t know what they are. Do I just not want to work? Is that all?

Programming stubbornness? No more key typy typy?

What is it? Babey?

Ugh. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. But saying that is not… I have to say, it’s not a part of me. You’d say that the physical extenstions of my self are part of me. I say they are not.

The pure self is something deeper.

But you are a naturalist, after all. Always were. What else can I expect from you. How I miss you. Just to have someone to chat with. Nothing serious.

When did it all get so serious. Why is my life so dramatic. I do not understand.

Depressive schizoaffective. Maybe they knew something I didn’t. Depressive. Nnnnn. I don’t know.

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