I need so much to get away. Smell the ocean. The local monotony is become excruciating and surfing the Internet one celebrity or political pissant after another. It really is terribly boring.
Frankly, the most exiting thing in my life was going to visit milady. Then I found out she doesn't exist. Should I have my head examined? Haven't seen my shrink in a while. That might be a good idea. Getting away would be better. Alas, a frugal life has its limitations.
I surmise the former contemplation of a love life was escapist in itself. Silly. I do laugh to think of her (my psychiatrist) asking me, "How does it make you feel?"
I feel like a schmuck. She (the lady) said I made her feel uncomfortable. I thought that precious considering... under seal. I never betray confidences. And my perceptions are ideosyncratic. (What gall.) Anyway, metaphysically, that's a lover; someone who is aware of what one thinks and feels, not indifferent nor supercilious. I should think that calls for dialogue. Never happened. Doesn't exist.
Well, with regard to virtuality, the best I can do is pull a shot at the coast from the archive, gussie it up some and talk to myself. (Really not much choice.) Blimey... is that the curvature of the earth I detect?
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