Coming out of a fatigue-induced crash (how long was I out today, maybe an hour and a half?) leaves my brain a murky mix of confusion and dead thoughtweight. Staring at the television is about all the focus I can muster for the first little while.
The unsupported use case of Bix Frankonis’ disordered, surplus, mediocre midlife in St. Johns, Oregon.
No fear, no hate, no thoughtless bullshit, and no nazis.
Read the current manifesto. (And the followup.)
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Coming out of a fatigue-induced crash (how long was I out today, maybe an hour and a half?) leaves my brain a murky mix of confusion and dead thoughtweight. Staring at the television is about all the focus I can muster for the first little while.