I'm walking through walls.

Get out of my way. It's Awful early, and I'm feelin' Surly. Jesus! When did I start channeling Waylon Jennings? Here's the Situation. My parents went away for a week's vacation... Sorry, but I have to (OCD) do that when anyone says here's the situation, which I actually only typed. I'm at work. I disconnected the connection at my house. I won't have access here for much longer, either. I'll do what I can to drop another post or two before I split Czechside.
I've been worn thin by this region's propensity for circumstantial misplacement. These dark Amish woods have bad juju. It's more obvious the closer I get to getting. A thousand teeny claws are a-popping from this gravesite, in an attempted Lilliput on my Brobdingnagian Ass. I woke up to a voice mail from the #5 this morning. I can't think of anything that has made me feel better in the last year. He called to tell me 12:22. It's a little thing, but it lit a fire. By the time I got to work, I was talking Trooper's ears off. I was strong. I was once and fully ready to rock.
I feel like Adam Sandler in Punch Drunk Love when he faces off with the Mattress Man. "I have such Strength."
I'm about to give away all of my stuff, like in Brother Sun, Sister Moon. Beyond the book and music objects, my wheat has additional chaff. I've been dining with Lord Humphrey for tootoo long to feel this fat. What I'm trying to say I've learned is that I interpret far too many Lessons as being Messages.
Put that in your mouth and chew it. I've got to work.

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