i got a flu and feel like i'm under water. deep turbid waters of unwanted weakness. i want to close my eyes and follow these psychedelic pictures that my mind produces, but all i've got is a responsibility to a place that should be long in the past. oddly, i don't feel too frustrated emotionally, i don't get desperate even though my reality looks grey and repetitive. i've got faith. i have lost but i have gained so much more. when my brother asked me how i was, the answer was immediate and thoughtless - great. i am great, and there's no reason to it. there's nothing to prove i am doing fantastic, but does it matter?