You must excuse the radio silence,
"Necessity has me by the foot".
I question whether America hasn't fallen into timarchy;
The Titanpointe facility might be enough to convince me
the world's a stranger place at present.
We desperately need a method of politics
that depends on articulation rather than representation,
Something to foster a more intelligent society. I fear
strange and merciless times are upon us
which necessitate emissions control.

Flaws don't absolve us of responsibility, yet they erode our agency
by compromising one's decision-making ability.

I felt loneliness, the likes of which
can only be known
as one contemplates their own body.
I recall where I was last week, a psi-trance gig.
I remember that evening's events:

There were many out, some
were from teenage years past.
We all ended up at squat party.
I felt belonging, but also brief sadness
as we raved in this abandonment:
Cold candlelight and phonescreens,
Cheap ***** and speed-amphetamine;
A portable speaker playing dark minimal.
Once upon a time, when we were true fiends,
I could hear it
calling to me.
Now I'm as lost, but no longer hear a calling.

When I got home my mind wandered until
it found the mirror, and I let quieted thought
wash through me, recalling, times, and friends.

Felt quite low last weekend. Took 12.5mg of amitryptaline.
I'd been meaning to  assess its effect on sleep/dreaming
as part of a long-running personal experiment.
Experienced hypogogia as I drifted off that night
but the content of dreaming itself was unclear.
The sedate feeling lingered into the next day.

Forty-eight hours after initial administration
I noticed an offset/aftereffect. I dreamed that night
and remembered enough nonsense to be bored/perturbed.
I experienced a vivid hypnopompic state, whereby
parts of my dream clung to waking thought for long enough
to remember some narrative (some sort of teen-drama mash-up
but the lovable main characters were missing, and I was earnestly
trying to convince myself it [the dream?] was worth continuing.

I get the sense of some venture,
And want to push for experience;
The pursuit of excellence, what else?
Is there anything other?
The pursuit of Otherness, perhaps.
What of mediocrity,
And of what we say merits?
Does intention have merit unto itself?
Is our pursuit of the good life so premised on virtue,
And the Other as premised on whatever's vice?

I reclaim my cravings, and return
to attend to some wayward notions
in the darkness of my dear hometown.
Laudatio Ejus Manet In Secula Seculorum.
Who let the living out?

What do you do when nothing excites you anymore,
How do you cope in the post-epicurean world?

Chroma key a green tee with the galaxies
you wish you could visit,

Message me
and I'll meet there you there.

Acute anxiety, insomnia, hand tremors, and a pre-delirium state.
Feelings of excess glutamate
spurned by GABA dysregulation.
It was not 'the fear', there was no binge.
Rather it was brief, mild ethanol withdrawal
prompted by frequent consumption over the week.

Distinct feelings
of excitotoxicity.