Stay up late, pushing past exhaustion into perfection of perception. Understanding of self is essential for this existential extollment. Extollment? I meant extinguishment. Can't convey if I'm projecting. Stream of conciousness leads to extreme unconciousness. Writing without pushing, thinking, or stopping. Only feeling. Or am I knowing more than I'm feeling? Do I even know what I feel? No knowing noes the feeling of thoughts fought back, you know. Liar. I don't know if noing frees the feelings pushed back from focused thought. Was that even a sentence? Know! Do freed thoughts flee? Where to? How so? What then? No.