Becoming too Busy to Die

With cautious optimism, I feel the energy that was once flow through me once more. If you would have asked me a year or two ago where my thoughts lied, I would have said that I was done with everything psychic in nature and was ready to move on with life. I would have answered that all was under control and all was well enough. Everything still is in my control, but I have reached critical mass where the eternal nothingness of everything has forced me not to evolve but to evert into a new position on the plane of all things. Psychopathy may still be in my bones, but it is now appreciated, though laser-focused in its use, and I have shed all labels. I may refer to psychopathy by name in the future, but really there is only one focus now: my flavor of “crazy” in this world gone mad.

The truth is, I am seeking escape from the mindfucking void of it all. I’m tired up dropping thousands at casinos, winning thousands at the same, and not feeling a thing good, bad, or otherwise. I’m exhausted from the mundane. It is time to rekindle a love for life or the best approximation I am capable of. This requires a new focus and hyper determination. I don’t know where this road is going, but the fact that I can see curves ahead is tantalizing enough.

Get in the car; we’re going for a ride.

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