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This is what it could look like when one completely deconstructs a life as one knows it, and how to build from the ground up. Alternatively, this is a fresh look at an old story. The fine art of falling apart.

wordy, we are all wordy here today

Waking up this morning to my cell phone screaming it's sound for text messages. I had put a Matthew Good ring tone on it to let me know when email came in...you know, just in case I was getting a super sized, time sensitive secret document from Viagra Super Plus store.

I don't know of such a place, of course.

I used to like that ring tone, but it's wearing on me now. I'll probably change it to my old Johnny Cash that I had used for the past 3 years. Sick, I know. But I don't really care about that either, at the moment.

So, awake. Sort of. The movie I fell asleep watching still on, ah the miracle of the 'loop' option. It used to be music that I slept to, but it's been not so the past few months, running around trying to pick up the loose parts of my mind. That in itself not a project nearly finished by any means.

Here I am, hours and hours later, having read all of the morning papers (in one article, my previous doctor gave up his license to practice medicine *anywhere, ever again* for crimes such as narcotics prescriptions, sexual abuse of patients, etc). I can't say I'm surprised, although he was never more than he had to be, when I was seeing him. Mind you, I never needed narcotics, either.

I suppose I should be grateful, to have a place half decent to wake up in, ring tones, cell phones, movies, and doctors that don't try to feel me up when he's dispensing standard medical procedure to all my known parts.

Which is it, thankful or dubious?
I'll decide when I wake up tomorrow.

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