but then the microbiological denizens of my guts rebelled, and compelled me to stay at home. the revelation to stay at home came when i gruesomely packed a sickbag in my backpack.
if you remember this, then you have an insight into the pattern that my brain is currently processing the world with.
is it cooler to play a sci-fi-epic-game with expensive models painted by my own hand, or to do it on a computer? the computer messes with your mind when eyes are closed, or not paying attention to what is actually there . when i look at the imperfections of some wallpaper, i actually see (“will this go away”, fred interrupted, “when i get off substance d?”)
luckily, i have jolted my mind back into a snug fit with the world with some movies:
separated at birth?