in the coming months he would become more and more lonely, then confined and more and more obscured from other human beings. some would begin to call him a myth, and upon reading the dictionary, would take it back because it’s to generous “he never did much anyway,” they would recall.
the sky would remain the same color, but he began to feel special because for a few months he wouldn’t realize the different lights of the lamps in his room were affecting how he perceived colors outside.
long walks would become short and although he would gain weight he boasted to those remaining in his life how he would never really eat food. the reality being he would hold out as long as he could, then binge, and upon ruining his metabolism fall more an more deeply into a disgusting state of paralyzation.
it’s so funny how I have potential” he said to himself. his potential was the wisdom that he knew he was lying to himself. he had potential years ago, that is the way it works, but years pass and the race is revealed to be a multiatholon. if you’re not into made-up words, a multi-event race. there’s log jumping, martini parties, a long chat with a wise patron of the arts, swimming and a made up sport involving the your spiritual energy (chakra).
what am I talking about? PUBLISH ANYWAY EVEN THOUGH I FORGOT