Oh

Yes. Day's end, flames on the horizon, red smoke over gray waters, conflagration sinking 'neath the tide, crimson brand twixt gray black blankets.

God I'm tired.

I can't remember not being tired. Just like I can't remember not having a headache, or a time before the sickly wet sawing sensation in my side every time I breathe, or a time before any of the other nagging ailments that seem to occupy my time lately. Too introverted I guess, must be my narcissistic personality. Forgotten almost everything else it seems. I loaded up a storage locker a year ago and haven't checked on it since. Just sort of forgot about it but kept making the payments out of habit. Tools in a workroom, at the same time foreign and familiar. Relic's and artifacts. Habit, routine, conditioned response. Counterfeit personality. Faux cognizance. Right follows left follows right follows left... Guess it's better than the alternative... Anyway, enough whining for now.