i keep forgetting the sad and happy things that happen.

and just left with the lethargy and the greyness. (and somehow i've gotten pimples lately. dear skin, i am twenty-four years old, you should have gotten over this ages ago.)

keeping spirits up with the highs and lows as they come, and trying not to be disturbed that i can neither recall things or envision and plot as vividly as i'd like. consolation is that the whole detachment thing fits with my new status as reluctant buddhist guru.

which is a whole other irony to poke fun at.