Everything is disintegrating around me. The man I thought I was is crumbling. What the fuck am I? I keep losing things. I keep coming here, again and again in my mind. Things don’t make sense, but here, it’s not important, I no longer need to be real. I can let go.
Have a drink, pitch a slightly broken tent, have another drink, write nonsense. It’s beautiful this place I’m in. Cherish it.
Time’s passed, I keep losing things, come back.