I don't know if it is purely psychosomatic, or if there is some quasiobjective reality to my sensation of flux. Like the axis of the earth has shifted ever so slightly, causing the wind to subtly change.

Instead of performing the activities of daily living that I should be performing, I am instead paralyzed by an irrational emotional inertia.

The more I dwell on it, the more I don't want to do it.

So, who knows, maybe this change in my medication is not agreeing with me, and it is somewhat depressing to realize once again that I am truly nothing but a clockwork orange. Better living through chemistry, indeed.

So, once again, the mail remains unopened, the bills remain unpaid. For no good reason. Instead, I am surreptitiously typing away into this ridiculous blog, unreasonably hoping that somehow destiny will look away this hour.

I am so mind-fucked. I would be really hilarious if it wasn't happening to me. (As they say, everything is funny so long as it isn't happening to you.)

Maybe (although I know better than to hope tomorrow when I should be doing today) I'll get my ass in gear after a decent night of sleep.