you swerve, I swerve

we all swerve together

in the existential loneliness of what is not the least correct – ethical, nonetheless.

i always marvel most about possibilities than the actual acting on them…

(i’m running on a fever so bear with me please)…

it’s not that I don’t appreciate your voice, your laughter or compassion; I just need my time and space. A lot. More than most.

except when I’m sick. Like now. Like fucking forever it feels like!

the waveform is super saw and my head is in high pitch…

ok, I should stop now. Tomorrow will be better (maybe…)

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