FATIGUE

Fatigue, like matted fur, leaves an impression – or it leaves a stain on the skin – but it doesn’t matter. Fatigue is meaningless, limiting, upsetting (capsized, thrown into mental discomposure). There are cyclical predicates to our relentless exhaustion, and so they are abided, but it is upsetting like being capsized, upsetting as in thrown into mental discomposure because it is meaningless.  Physical pain contributes, and emotional strain and fear and reading and talking on the telephone, and traveling. 

I find myself beneath the surface of my fatigue and since it is meaningless I cast it out of my visualization and I'm no longer beneath anything. Instead, I am amidst a comprehensive archetype of relentlessness, one without an object, without exhaustion or fear or reading.

The onset of total dissipation into a lack so epically refracted is the principal mise en abîme of my glassy mortality.