I need to get away from caps and this blocklettering divot that i'm in currently. It's thursday. Not out of tradition but, rather, spontaneous paralysis, i am stricken with an inability to want progress. There's foam in my ears blocking the bings and shizzes that make this factory breathe. This is an unauthorized, unaccounted for cessation of activity. My fault. Theirs too. I'm mostly good at making pretend that i'm making a useful contribution to the day's take. I'm probably not, if i had a perspective a few feet a w a y, looking at my folly... It hurts to think about my day ahead. My body temperature goes up 2 degrees just trying to imagine my schedule of inane activities after an inane day of work. Re-evaluating things, is this me having taken comfort in, and growing accustomed to, a temporary obsession, or is it really my passion? No way to tell. I'm failing either way you shake a stick at it.