Do you ever get the feeling like everything is a set up? That every single thing that happens to you has been staged, like you’re some kind of competition winner? Or a charity case maybe? It can be kinda degrading, you know. Better not to know. Guh. ‘Surprise me, please.’ I’m going to go around surprising people until I myself get surprised again. Jolted from this horrid pseudo-reality. Hide the rigging, this is meltin my head. Bland bland bland. Gimmie a tissue. It’s a strange complex. Like a conspiracy. All of your friends know, your family too. Well, most of them. The main players exchange information on the fly. “Your man’s in trouble, give him a call. Yeah, today about 4pm, just to ask him how he is.”

You don’t know this but there’s this whole mysterious network that’s concerned with your wellbeing. This well-knit clan includes hospital staff, government officials, people of high social standing; and humble all-powerfuls, residing somewhere back there in the shadows. It’s probably better that you don’t think about it too much. It can kind of guide you too though, in a weird ego-death type of way. Like a prolonged ego-death, the intensity of which will decide how you should act next. I dunno, man, it’s all fucked.

Just do what seems right at the time. That’s all some people can do. Pre-planning and such doesn’t come into it. Act. And whilst this is all probably bad advice, I speak only for those of us who suffer with this peculiar malady. But about the pre-planning, some reflection maybe, that might be good; every once in a while, lest you get overwhelmed. Gotta distil that shit. Fuck it.