it's getting worse. feel like im rotting, going through the motions. my reality is quite different, i must say. bleak is not an efficient word. Give me your eyes, I need sunshine. Your blood, your bones, your voice, and your ghost.
I'm leaving now, returning a stump grinder to the rental company. Too heavy to lift, but it will have to be done. Wish me luck, and other good things... if you're so inclined. bye.