it seemed like a good idea - where's your god of prose clarity now? was it all just an illusion? self-awareness piles on itself, til it's an elephant standing on my torso and i can't think of anything else - 

there was an alternate timeline where we had a goat in the shed - the internet age never happened - strategically blocked technology made me nostalgic for a best of all possible worlds claim - i can't think of any more dialogue today - saved waves will retain all my old fool's gold brainwaves, phase out to a warm haze, desperately seeking hypnosis - wanting to ride in that groove, keep spinning - spinning seemed so significant, can't it feel important again?