"Have you yet discussed the issue of your obscene vulnerability?"
I was listening, but all I heard was the militant aggression of that dreamy invasive memory.
"There could be a serious underlying issue.
Do you want to lug that into the ground?"
This could cause some serious underlying issues.
It's time to change the subject.
"I don't mean to harp on it.
Do you miss your toyota?"
What?
"How are the kids?"
What?
"The niece and nephews."
Oh. They're fine. It's all fine. I don't miss anything.
I need to remember composure.
The distance between anxiety and comfort isn't always far, but there should always be distance, distance that should be respected and appreciated, but not idolized. I'll spend the night for sleep. I'll spend the night for sleep. I'll spend the night.
"Forget about sleep. You're still young. I may not be some parched individual, I may be some eager cliché, but I can surely see the importance of expanse and margins. Perhaps I'm an import, but I have dust here."
Surely. If I have time.
