7/1/26 - What I See Is Unreal

I've a notion of social selectivity. I'm much pickier, now.

I will not be inviting any more guests or characters into my home. I'm pulling up the drawbridge, in a manner of speaking.

I am not unhappy, and I am not angry. I am disappointed. Big difference.

This is a trying season. It is the most expensive season. It is the most bothersome and cruel. I find that peers care very little for the circumstances of those less fortunate in the summer months.

It is, truly, a season where the fool has their day. I do not need anything like that in my presence, not right now. I will not afford the enemy an inch.

Isolationism. A tad fascistic, I must admit.

I'll let them imagine. Just a little bit.

I think that I'll allow myself the company of those I've already accepted into the court of my heart. But I cannot do with the shocks and surprises.
I can hear you in there, laugh it up. I'm well aware. It's not about certainties, it's about temperament. Tolerances, and measures of response.

Bitterness characterizes my outlook, as of right now. I'm in that sort of mood to welcome the first punch. I'm in that sort of mood where I cannot be taken down any lower. Nothing can stir fear within me anymore. All one can do is tiptoe.

This car pisses me off. These coworkers piss me off. This building pisses me off. The council pisses me off. This country pisses me off. But I'm not angry.
I'm finally nearing that perfect state of mind. I can feel it.

I will be requesting another transfer. This time to Coleman Young. If I'm lucky.
I'm all out of patience, I'm not accustomed to that "necessary" sort of restraint right now. No, I'm not some big badass cool guy or anything, I don't know any kung-fu, I'm not crashing out any time soon. I'm a regular person. I just don't care anymore.

I think that they're dead. That's what got me. I don't think they're alive anymore.
I won't bother anymore.

And really... all the world could fall upon me, and I wouldn't care a bit. As long as there's no signs, it would never matter. It would never move me.

I could only be so lucky, to have been blessed with the opportunity to perform one last time. To make an escapade, one last time. After then... eh.
It might be something I can't put into words. Death like living, it's all coming back to me.
And that becomes the theme of the next movement. Skeletal. Sparse. Honest.

That's it, I've got it. I've got it.

Death Like Living.

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