Pain. Imagine that you have just painted a sunrise and that before your eyes all the colors are leaking away until you are looking at a blotty mess of black and grey.

Now imagine that this is happening inside your skin.

Not entirely pleasant. But necessary. At least at this junction. I revel in my mistakes. I wallow in them like a pig in slop. Messy and motivated. The desire without the goal. It hurts to cintinue. I will rest until I work tomorrow. thnen I shall contact whomever it isw I am contacting again.

I choose to be alone. The End.