what_exhaustion_does_to_the_brain raze you forget the name of the park you visit three days a week. the one you lived across the street from for seven years, until a trio of drug dealers and the indifference of a swollen city drove you from a lamb's forgiving fleece to an eastern french region rich in iron ore. you have to work harder to find the words you've known since you were an awkward child. you forget the dreams you want to remember and hold onto the scenes you'd be glad to lose. physical pain is slower to fade. unease sucks at the soul of the day. even when there's a blanket of calm draped over everything. you know it won't last. a year of this. a year. a fucking year. and no end in sight. 231016 what's it to you? who go blather from