If there is one thing in all this withering world that I remain unremiss in my commitment to, it would have to be my hyper-vigilant predisposition toward unimpeded self-destructive-sabotage. In whatever ways it manifests, be it willful or subconscious, it persists with neither precedent nor any remote form of competition. In many ways, I see this type of behavioral affliction as being inherent to the human condition. Dare not fool thyself, for even those who readily exhibit traits generally perceived as being self-preserving are by most accounts short-sighted no further than their soonest safe escape from their primal fears. Is that even a sentence? It is now. I shall try to lay my thoughts out in an orderly fashion, as opposed to my usual lengthy vague explanations followed by the relevant context crucial to gain any sort of understanding to the madness that is my expression.
At least this time I have a mitigating circumstance.
Before I go on blathering, I would ask for your “blogging award” consideration for my deftness in displaying within this post, an utterly comprehensive evidential account as to why it is that I so willingly obscure my thoughts in layers of “poetic” ambiguity, and not do what I am so doing… now. As in this. here. *Please note the failed attempt at humor.
Oh, forget it. I’m helpless in my lack of delineational accordance. Moreover, holy fuck about my syntactical ineptitude. But I digress, I guess…
On a side note², *of what concern, I cannot say, as I got caught up in organizing my taskbar when I went to look for my pinned “charmap.exe” function to copy and paste the symbol for the second power AKA: “²”. Now you see the chaos that persists within my mental processing, and why it is I seek to escape its wretched curse.
Welp, I don’t even know what to do now. What I think I was trying to tell you is that I am fairly certain that I have suffered a concussion, though I’m not sure why I sought to do so (tell you, as it were). Let me stick to what I do know. Earlier, as I was rummaging through the pantry looking for some sort of ~who knows what~, an unfortunately situated box full of tools spilled forth and found the back of my head in an absurdly successive individualized manner. That is to say, upwards of ten substantial wrenches and various other toolbox accouterments rained upon my cranium in a stream of rapid succession, from an overhead distance of approximately 4 feet. It was not to my liking. Ugh, or argh, depending on your onomatopoeic point of inference.
The rapidity of it all was so shocking that I failed to ascertain the magnitude of its gravitational imposing. I can only tell you that it rendered me disheveled in ways defying past experience. …I now vaguely recall the initial reason I started writing this post, to begin with. My vision had become discomfortingly blurry when I first sat down in front of the computer screen. This had the extinctual effect of compelling me to apprise the WordPress community of my predisposed ardent intent to subject my compromised form to courses of action, which would thereby prove exacerbatingly detrimental to my state of health.
The worst part of all of this is my acute awareness that whatever in the fuck I just preposterously attempted to express is more than likely the distinct abomination as to what truly is. Not merely the consequence of having suffered a succession of repeated blows to the crown of my head. Not the ~Crown of Arbitrary Verbosity™~, the other one.
What IS certain is that my command of ALT Key codes seems no longer a feature in my scanty scope of knowledge.
WTF am I even doing? I need to get to a hospital STAT. As well should you, having read thus far…
…also, ouch. in every possible manifestation. I kid you not.
[wonderous cat art: Louis Wain]