Maintaining radio silence, pt. 1:
It's the strangest thing in the world. I've lost my place in the world. Like I knocked the book marker out of the book I'm reading and can't find where it's supposed to go. I flip through trying to recognize what I've read and haven't read, but the parts I recognize having definitely read are from way long ago. It's kinda cool.

I'm doing well (in case anyone wants to know about my well-being), not particularly happy or sad. I'm not particularly lucid or numb, not particularly inspired or defeated. I'm not lonely or tortured. I'm not regretting anything regarding where I am.

Things have wound down on their own accord, and nothing has unexpectedly started up. I'm finished with all the things I told people I'd do, and I'm putting off contacting people I've been intending to until I decide what or where my next bold move will be. I have no time frames in my mind.

From where I stand, my past makes no sense whatsoever, and just continuing this would also make no sense, because it wouldn't have any meaning. I need to think hard and be mindful these next few days. Contemplate and calculate what has already been decided and is patiently waiting for execution. Remember that all I am has been leading to this.

Shall I ride? What's the point? Shall I drink? Why not? Why? Drink if you want, don't if you don't want. Shall I brush my teeth? Mm, that's still probably for the better. Shall I go to Sadie's gigs? Fuck no. What am I going to do for the rest of the week? Sit in front of the computer, trying to figure it all out?

I suppose there's no problem in treating this coming week as any other week.