Sometimes anger is seen as a necessity for life to function with its routines. I find its hypothetical absence hard to picture. It's always been there whether I'm the source or someone else.

Then feeding on the modes created with replicas and pieces from the many muses, scenarios, so forth. Synthetic empathy. Fuel.

It all doesn't seem wrong, though I feel that change should occur; however it is adaptation that is more feared than change.

Beginning to believe your feelings are not real may be like flirting with the green veil at the boundary. You can touch it with the chance of pulling away, but should you really do so without the bones to keep at bay at least some things? Wait, I have a bone at the moment.

The fact that I've seriously considered anger management is a step somewhere. Well more as if you put your feet on the ground after waking up, but not quite to the point where you stand.

But it may have to stop the modes controlled more, the fooling sharpened.



I have exactly one more month.