ideas with no tangibility;
ideas with irrelevant supports;
ideas without value;
ideas' witlessness;
ideas' witnesses;



I always took Kafka's Metamorphosis to be an allegory for suicide, with his
family dealing with his body. They grieve and move on; Mr. Samsa puts on his
work outfit, goes to the bank, Grete starts working, they house dormers to pay
some excess bills before finally deciding enough is enough and when Gregor is
gone moving somewhere cheaper. I reread it and think long and hard about it.

I don't feel like I belong anywhere. My battery broke. My power cell, power
pack, power bank. Kicked the ol' bit bucket. Combined with caffeine withdrawal
mood swings. I had a razor I use for cutting fabric and I looked at it and
thought long and hard about it. Have you ever seen the movie Drive? I don't
know what I am going to do without a power cell. It saved my life, genuinely,
more times than I can count.

What happened to Kafka? He starved to death. I think often about it. Am I
really so hungry? I look at the fat in my flesh.

I'm tired.


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