I turn 23 at midnight. Chemicals power me on wards, at this point nothing else could. I remember when I turned 18.
I think my long term on/off relationship with sister midnight and her many forms has murdered my memory.
I enjoyed an orchid show with some family and R earlier today. It was beautiful, but my breathing and back/hip pain did not allow me to totally enjoy it. Replacing my human needs with speed to gently push me along became sickening by the end of the time, so we left for home while they continued on beneath the voluptuous green houses.
I've stayed inside our apartments futon both out of pain and exhaustion. The clocks tick down to midnight and I feel excited about another 365 days of consciousness.
But the only clock is on the TV. Fuck. 23.
