Saturn’s day. Homebound. Freya’s day was a loss. Too much sensation inertia. Only marginally better today. The only distraction was having to do this thermal soak or that rinse every few minutes. So the best I could do in and around was try not to get too depressed by FD SCP’s choices on the electromagnetic audio-visual receiver.
No hard objects hurled. Nor digestive contents. Although both were a challenge. I have reaffirmed my hypothesis, based on observation, that all commercials are prevarications. Sometimes being in the throes of pain analgesics helps one discern other threads, most of which are equally prevaricative.
The amazing part is that we continue to spend money on the falsehoods. Even the nerds who are rational enough to know better. It seems that the availability of not-falsehood goods is zero, at least here in the hinterland. Nothing that may be purchased is what it is claimed. We are just money pawns in a shill game of advertising maskarovka.
As a result, I am actually glad I am stationary. That way I do not expend my substance on this pre-landfillage.
But I do rather feel like the Army of the Tennessee made a battle in my mouth. I can honestly say I ache from head to toe.