17 hours ago I walked into my boss's office and asked for my job back. I started immediately. I'm doing that thing again where I can't stop the desire to run, everywhere. And sleep is something I think I might have had last week when the world felt like brand new snowflakes and the safe angle between the arm and the body. Maybe I'm like that character in the short story I can't finish who increases her speed in order to avoid imagination. Ruckfall, registriert sie bei sich. But to what end? There's always an irrational purpose, only don't ask how, don't ask what pretexts one gives oneself. The plan is likely dubious. If you can find one at all.