Stay hungry

I wish I were dead so I wouldn't have to feel the way I do now. 24 hours ago I was sharp-witted, keen to see what I could arrange my small life into. I have few material possessions, but they are good ones. I usually receive pleasure from my small menagerie of oddities, but not today. Today is flat. Euclidean.

I wish I had just one friend or correspondent who was intelligent, ironic, and humorous so that my misery could be shared between two people, ameliorated somewhat (god willing) in the process. How many kind souls who know me and claim to care can even define "menagerie," "Euclidean," and "ameliorated?" The magic of course does not simply reside in the plentitude of words known, but how they can serve as messengers of the subtle mind, can construct precisely the right sentiment and pinpoint an indelible thought that no other vein of vague vernacular could express with half the verisimilitude. Ok, I've gone about three Vs too far, please forgive me.