REEEEEEEEE!

I'm on a low road right now.

There are a literal million things to do and not one of them worth my time.

I would rather sit in place and burn but the orbit takes me on its inevitable route 'round the center; and I a center in my own right, around which others orbit, and so on and so forth, ad infinitum, ad nauseum.

Yeah, I’m on a low road right now, the very swamp of existence where the toads croak, the gators lurk, the moss gathers, and the mosquitos buzz while the stench rises and falls with a nevertheless welcome breeze that cools the burning core of the summer heat.

This is the great noontide—not the promised, ecstatic, glorious Dionysian revel but a cluster fuck in the fetid muck, where the wanderer tromps through Hell unperturbed.

I know the high road is on its way.

Hurry up and wait!—for the valley to become the peak—that’s the secret of when to keep silent, and when to speak.

The resource is exhausted.

The resource is replenished.

If it were an inexhaustible source it wouldn’t need to

REEEEEEEEE!