indeed my misery is counter-, an archaeological intuitiveness.
you read a story about ****, you read a story about Apollo 17... you read a story about the first female commander at Sandhurst.... you read about Czech orphanages' abuse... you read, and you read, what a strange anaesthetic you experience... in your seclusion, you are indeed a cosmonaut by then... drinking and reading this **** is like injecting ******; you begin to shut down, to learn to become *numb.