why_drink kingsuperspecial Eyes take in the world, ears relay, thought distills, and hands do. I am present, but at a distance. My mind and consciousness are only half present, unfulfilled. Floating from moment to moment, I do not land or persist. The depth of my presences is meaning full only to myself, with no significant direction or goals, and little I can point to as mine. My existence is a swirl of smoke; within minutes I would leave only memory as my mark on the world. Perhaps this is at the root of my anxiety, the restless urges I feel. It is startling to have a vague need that is so boundless and undefined. Incomplete, I’m subsist on a ruse of contentment, a quiet balancing act of compromise and ceaseless distraction. I am unable to map the details of an answer, yet no amount of rationalization can fill the chasm. Discomfort over this void is ever present, and drives me to seek refuge, band aid solutions that numb the injury without decreasing it’s effect or addressing the source of the damage. I am unable to come to focus or bring the force of my discomfort behind a course of action. The foundation of dissatisfaction is resolute, and all things built upon this base fall to ruin. The future, though dynamic, remains shackled to this inert core, and the monuments of half completed dreams stand as illustration of my ordeal. lostandwandering 010715 ... birdmad why not? 010716 ... kingsuperspecial because I've discovered the inverse IQ math that occurs when I drink with my friends leads to such misbehavior as lighting cigarettes with $100 bills, running over highway cones at 100mph, wresting in 24hrs supermarkets, occasionaly votting on myself, and waking up in strange houses with no money and no sunglasses 010721 ... drunky also, it damages my ability to spell correctly. 010807 ... baby satan who the hell needs a reason?! 010808 what's it to you? who go blather from