Nonsense

I will stop this nonsense. It is obvious that women are a worthless distraction. All my drinking comes from their presence--whiskey is a palliative for their utter absence of intellectual curiosity and rigor. The shame tactics, their revisionist memoranda of understanding. No, it was the 15.8 miles this morning that made my mind right. I do not run this hard or see such sunlight during the day. I cannot carry on at a desk anymore. I cannot expose myself to the professional consumers of the western world. Fear and shame is what they offer to keep a man tethered. Fear and shame and codification. Moraline has written of this. But for him these are distant memories. He has overcome--not transcended, mind you--but overcome. I overcame when I was younger. Then let myself lead myself astray for a woman. To destroy my greatest thinking years, and the possibility that little creativity remains. It is no wonder that I attach each mile as if it were my last.