Icarus's blog: "Just South of Blue."

Lemme just dust off a bit here.











Where to start?

I'm not dead.











Well, not entirely.

I think I've lost all vision and aspiration, but hey
that's poorly managed alcoholism and depression for you.













I can't get past the very base necessities right now, and until I do, I'm not going to get much of anything done.



My brother moved back to town, and that's been a mixed bag of envy and glee.

Glee because we barely missed a beat.
Envy because that son of a crazy person is working within three days of coming back.

Granted the job
is
HORRIBLE.
And his arms might not hold out. And summer is coming.
Unairconditioned warehouse, 100* heat with swamplike humidity
you do the math.

I don't want him to work there.

It's a job I can't and won't do.
But ... things are actually getting worse here, and I don't know where else to send him for work.


I quit smoking (again), but I've doubled down on hooch and snarky remarks.
And some sort of mega chronic-fatigue.
I feel like I'm walking in mud, all day. Been this way for months.
Doesn't matter sleep, coffee, routine, exercise.

I can never get started.
The simplest things are exhausting and rage-inducing.

Could be PTSD rearing its ugly head.
But I don't wanna be that weak and encumbered.

After this respiratory infection, I'm gonna get back to exercise, and I'm just going to stab myself in the leg with a fork until I'm up, mobile, and crushing my enemies.

Oh



and I might be the victim of identity theft and insurance fraud.

Yippy
fucking
skippy.















Other than that, books, robots, and more books. TV, movies and games are continuing to circle the drain as means of diversion.






There is no work here.
Much less imagination.