I Don't Belong Anywhere

I'm adrift, floating goodness or badness knows where. Physically - tedium, if surface is all there is, but surface is not all there is.

There's a thing called astronauts, they go up into space.

There's a thing called psychonauts, they go into the inner space. That is what I do, and what I procrastinate doing, it's always something to do, and it's what I'll do even when I'm not doing it,,perhaps even more so.

Glazed doughnut or not, a psychonaut hovers past and through and by and so on. It's wordless, it's incommunicable, it's full of Freudian slips, and Jungian negligees.