I'm gonna be honest I'm all mired in and wrapped up in "stinkin' thinkin'" right now. Mentally I'm miserable. Depressive, bitter, angry. So, so angry. Depression is rage turned inwards. The inside of my head is a claustrophobic mess like I'm in a coffin and its walls are closing in and I'm scratching and clawing at the boundaries. I feel a nagging sense of haste like there's something I desperately need to do and QUICKLY and the hot-flash tingles that I occasionally get racing up my spine making my squirm are there to remind me of that fact. And my physical body might not, or might as well not exist, beyond my fingers I guess, which I hate, because no matter how I scramble they cannot move fast enough or accurately enough to convey my racing thoughts the way I wish that they could. I'm just a mind spewing vitriol into the infinite net.