Uuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhggggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh....

Ok. Tired. Almost 5AM. Brother's compulsive need for television woke me up from the sleep meant to cure my mental, physical, emotional fatigue and illness...cure light wounds, cure deep wounds... but... Awake. Now I am Awake.
Just how this is possible is not actually possible to comprehend. So tired. In fact, must make me more miserable than I've been in a while. Sick. So sick. And tired. I am sick and tired. I am expired. And yet... I am Awake.
Evil Awake.
Hate you.
Hate this place.
Not mine, not even my face.
This face, too faux, a faux face screaming of awareness...screaming Awake.
I am not Awake.
I am miserable.
On Autopilot.
Not Awake.
Six years old not 21.
See?
Faux face.
Sick and tired and sick and sick and sick. Bit the bullet and it blew off my tongue, blew up my mouth, blew me into a faux Awake.
Glad to have let you in on this state.