Its a bright day outside and even though I can't bring myself to appreciate it enough to go outside and move about I'm still sitting here quietly pleased that the skys haven't yet darkened again. I've lost alot of weight this past week, yet it is a struggle and I feel myself dragging along, skin and bones, a ball of wreckage coming to a halt.
The last shall be first and the first shall be last, or something like that. I won't ask for alot this christmas - no nothing at all.
I'll be up all night, burning holes in the continuum. Digging this world in two.