asymptotic

Which is to say, on a theoretical plane, there are some places I can never be (close as I might get, far as I might go).

I’m back, the backstory is gone. I was boring myself so I went away, came back, redacted the whole thing en masse, barring the occassional definite article – Yossarian lives! etc. – And have, for some few lines now, gone on boring myself.

Basics:

– Have secured full time work : )  In a supermarket : (  Around the corner from my parents’ house x_x

– Have finally gotten kicked out of uni, sort of.

– Am living with said parents whilst trying to secure habitations sufficiently proximal to said supermarket.

– Have basically (if not permanently) given up any dreams of success in life. Slaving away for a while seems like the best option – toil being good for bringing sleep, which brings the next day’s distracting toil, and so I am perpetually diverted away from troublesome thought.

– It has now been at least 3 months since I got through a whole day without despairing utterly. Have cut wailing and tooth gnashing to a minimum so as to draw less attention.

I’m sorry if the shades and tones don’t appeal, but I stared at myself in a mirror before and this is about it. The meat of my face is rancid and slack. It doesn’t move naturally, I feel like a dead machine wearing a rubber man suit. The only thing worse than a fake is a bad fake, I think. So here I am, for now, in all my gory lack of detail. We’ll see how this goes.