like my consciousness dissipating amid the sun's warm rays & the periodic sound of water meeting sand, my resolve to make anything of myself has been depleted to nil. still, i wade through the motions, pawing clumsily at "skill-set expansion" & "financial stability." i've deliberately cut away the thought that these steps will lead to some magical mind mountain, home to all the answers to the questions that peck at me while i sleep.
theatrical aside: "commercial aviation abhors a vacuum." --who first used this formula/first principle? aristotle? oh Author of the Primary Mover! will you never leave me?
who am i performing for?