Tired. Hot. Lack of sleep. Hot day. These are not related. However, if I say them over and over enough times, I think I might discover something new.

I don’t need to do this to myself during summer but at the very least summer is nearly over and soon there will be some sort of relief, or at least a sense of relief that will not be earned but appreciated regardless. It’s gonna be a time to celebrate and the celebrating will be done through a vigorous round of not doing very much.

Perhaps there will be some slithering.

Anyway, right now I have to deal with this situation that I find myself in so of course I am howling and cursing in pain and terror and all those other things. This is terror incarnate. There is no torture worse than what I am currently experiencing so I flail in a void of darkness, not knowing if I am on the ground, floating or falling. I know not what anything is anymore, but the pain and torment remain and so I try to sluggishly crawl my way out of this space of destitution, not knowing if I am going anywhere.

I keep on trying to get out of this and it continues on for eternities upon eternities It just keeps on going and it is nothing more than a series of jokes at my expense. I am sweating and I am barely moving, and I am in a position where I must stay awake but feel a strong desire to go sleep for a while, but I cannot. I must continue to suffer in solitude and all this suffering is diminishing character.

Of course I could just go to the exit door and use that and then have a nap or something, and there is a fan, but that would be easy. That would take away all the drama of this writing and my ability to really put it on as these would provide some sort of relief and if I am to take the option of relief, then there is no turning back for me. There is no ability to come back from a brief respite and so I have no idea what I’ll do from there. I have no idea if I dare take away something that so enables me to go on at length about things that don’t matter that much in the grand scheme of things.

Anyway, the pain, the discomfort, the horror and the terror! All howl at me as the wind blows dry and dull across a decaying sky, and I am here, hearing the sound of summer outside which provides some sort of pleasing sensation, if only the heat were not here to pull upon my very soul. I am afforded no rest despite a deep desire to, and I continue to endure the thousand insults that are thrown my way by this weather. It is unjust and unfair, and it’s also unpleasant.

The time it took to write five-hundred words: 06:40:46

This was fun to write. It’s not good, but it was fun.

Written at home.