June 18th, 2015: no matter how much coffee I drink, I can't get my brain to 'turn on.' It's like the best intellectual work I can do these days is reading, but even that depends on luck and circumstance if my standard anticipates more than just recognizing words on a page without letting them aerate and flourish as sensible concepts. I had a breakdown yesterday while composing my resume -- as if that isn't uncharacteristic enough -- and realized that I haven't written creatively in years. Something happened... my verbal chamber went out of business, no longer accepts new clients, has yet to liquidate its inventory of the words I tend to use over and over again. I need more than a software update to revive my creative machine. I need more than oil to grease the gears. I need to replace this entire computer. But I can't. Because replacing the computer means replacing me, and at that point what good is an upgraded system when the experiences that motivated the upgrade in the first place... are gone?
My eyes are insubordinate. They pull the blackout curtains down over my pupils. I incentivize them with caffeine, but the differentiating code that makes caffeine caffeine, a stimulant and not just a random molecule, means nothing to my body parts. They are unpersuaded and decline its request to operate. They don't care. They resist chemical protocol.
How to see when my internal machines govern themselves? The sum no longer has any jurisdiction over the parts...
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Everything is infinite,