Everything captivates me in ways I cannot describe.
It is devastating in many respects though, because I know this is a fleeting sensation.
I know the desire to care for nothing of anything too much will return.
I loathe it. But in those moments, I loathe nothing. I love nothing. I am nothing.
P.S. Last night I had a dream where I was stung by a hornet. My finger throbbed in pain and as I pulled its stinger from my finger white venom oozed out.
This morning I awoke with that pain, and a cut where my dream sting had been.
The sensation was similar to the night I had dreamt I had an itchy mustache. So real.
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