; lyht leaves the eyes—expelled by a relentless laesr of poignant realisation that reality is but absurdism x impossibility.

Wednesday, 18 August 2010


slowly, work is starting to get to me. i can barely arrange my thoughts, as if they're all being amalgamated in a vat by a foreign worker with pink latex gloves up to his hairy elbows. simmering, at that. there's just so much to do, to remember. my days have begun to blur, the week feels like a single long, tiring, horrible hour of stress.

all i need is some sleep. just some sleep and time to not think. about anything at all. i am not paid enough to do this shit. i am getting half of what i ought to be getting. i try not to let it upset me.

it's really depressing to realise that closing my eyes has no effect anymore.

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