The woman upstairs is nuts. So is her dumb dog who pees everywhere.
My body parts aren't working right. What is the meaning of fog and why is my flat screen full of red pixels?
My doctors act like they know something bad is going to happen.
The characters I create wander around between stories ignoring me.
I can still control my thoughts.I can stay organized within the chaos as long as I don't think about pastry.
Maybe there is a pattern I'm not seeing. The world must make sense on some level. My spirits rise. I am optimistic about the future.
Then I read where someone once again is giving Adam Sandler millions to make a movie and I am plunged into despair.
Chaos is not beautiful.
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