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.